Requiem
by AyJay
Summary: When dreams and reality collide, can Dean and Sam fight the ancient evil that stalks them? Or is the threat coming from somewhere closer to home? Rated for sexual content and language. Reviews appreciated. Third in the 'Forsaken' series
1. Dreams

_(A/N: WARNING: This story is rated for 'sexual content' …and the usual 'language' that peppers my stories. Read on…but you have been warned - grins...)_

(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural related; the following story and the characters of Riley and Dee belongs to me)

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**Requiem.**

**Chapter One.**

The harsh slap of leather against skin…

"_Dies iræ, dies illa_

_Solvet sæclum in favilla,_

_teste David cum Sibylla..._"

A leathery slap that now trailed blood…

"_Dies iræ, dies illa_

_Solvet sæclum in favilla,_

_teste David cum Sibylla..._"

A blood-drawn whip that brought an iniquitous smile…

"_Dies iræ, dies illa_

_Solvet sæclum in favilla,_

_teste David cum Sibylla..._"

Another flesh-scouring lash that lit manic eyes…

"_Dies iræ, dies illa_

_Solvet sæclum in favilla,_

_teste David cum Sibylla..._"

A further strike, eating into flesh and opening a depraved mind…

"_Dies iræ, dies illa_

_Solvet sæclum in favilla,_

_teste David cum Sibylla..._"

His head was bowed; the sharp stones digging into his knees as his right hand continued the flagellation. Blood ran in rivulets down his scoured back; the flesh raw and open, replacing the old scars with new as he smiled. The slices to his scalp made when hacking off his hair, snaked down his face and head, joining the blood at his back as it wove into a river and flowed down his torso.

Blood flew in arcs around the dark forest; staining the greenery red; the leaf litter floating in a sea of crimson around his kneeling form. Shadows ruled the landscape as his Latin cadence rose with every lash; his strokes becoming more fervoured as his litany intensified. His arm flew over his left shoulder; the ball-bearings attached to the flail, struck bone and he threw back his head and roared the verse…

"_DIES IRÆ, DIES ILLA_

_SOLVET SÆCLUM IN FAVILLA,_

_TESTE DAVID CUM SIBYLLA..._"

A low rumble began deep beneath the earth; a menacing growl that thundered towards him. The ground shook; spattering his naked form with blood spilled. The trees that surrounded the small clearing bent earthward; bowing down and humbling themselves to the entity that was being summoned. The air took on a crushing density as the forest seemed to weep at the power being drawn to their paradise.

He felt the steps that shook the forest floor; felt the evil that invaded the woods and he shivered with excitement as he shouted his plea to the heavens…

"_DIES IRÆ, DIES ILLA_

_SOLVET SÆCLUM IN FAVILLA,_

_TESTE DAVID CUM SIBYLLA..._"

The bitter wind enveloped him, bringing a caustic sting to his wounds. And as he felt the bleak fingers scrape down his chest, marking him; the disciple supplicated himself at the feet of his deity

"Do you dream?" was the question that raked into his corrupt psyche.

"I dream of you" he answered; his lips brushing the dirt in which he lay.

"Are dreams no more than pathways for our deepest desires, our darkest fears?"

He smiled at the question "They are your weapon against those that have committed the ultimate betrayal"

"They are _one _of them" came the iniquitous reply; and he could _hear _the baneful laugh that sat just below the surface of his master "You have found the one I seek?"

He braced himself for the attack he knew was coming; his groin pushing painfully against the earth in glorious anticipation "I have found a link to your prey"

His head was jerked up; fingers squeezing painfully as they slid under his scalp. He moaned in barely contained ecstasy as his pale blue eyes stared into the malevolent, ancient eyes of his owner. And he smiled as razor sharp fingers tore into his chest again; slicing him from hip to shoulder. He gasped in pleasure; his arousal clearly evident as he was punished for his failure.

He cried out in orgasmic pain as fingers raked at him; ripping into his flesh as his blood mixed with the earth. He threw his arms wide; his head thrown back in ecstasy as he begged for more. His pleas were answered as his flesh was torn. Deep furrows littered his torso; small, iridescent glimpses of rib shone brightly through his shredded chest; his smile growing ever wider as he spasms wracked his body.

He screamed in rapture as he erupted; emptying himself on the feet of his master; finally falling at those same feet as his mutilated chest heaved in spent delirium.

"Rise" came the order.

He lifted his face; rising slowly, his head bowed in servitude "I am your loyal servant"

A long finger reached out and lifted his chin, He stared into the bottomless depths of two obsidian eyes that seemed to glow in manic exuberance.

"We have begun…"

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_Sweat glistened on his body as a smile graced his lips. His hands ran slowly up her stomach,;teasing her as she teased him. He watched her; her eyes closed and her head thrown back; her movements slow and rhythmic as she drew it out…moving for her pleasure __**and **__his. He pulled her down; wanting to feel her body against his; their sweat mixing as his lips found hers. Their tongues performed a graceful dance as he rolled over; his body sliding against hers as pushed slow and deep. _

_Desire, the only sounds that filled the room as she ran her hands over his body; her fingernails scraping up his back and urging him on; winding into his hair as she pulled him hard against her. Her legs wrapped around him; holding him in place as his hand travelled over the firm but supple body underneath him; down to her ass; lifting her; wanting to be deeper; wanting more…and more…and more. _

_She rolled him back; their movements now more urgent as lust and passion raged through them. He rolled her this time; neither of them able to keep still as they used every part of the bed to try and satisfy a hunger that had been building since their first meeting. An insatiable need that overrode everything else._

_But the bed couldn't contain them; and he slid from it, taking her with him. Their kiss not breaking as he pushed her against the wall; holding her hands above her head as he rocked his hips. He dropped his lips to her neck; kissing and biting; her moans of pleasure igniting an engulfing fire in him; her whispered pleas for 'more' spurring him on; driving him crazy._

_The heat of the room matched the heated fire blazing within them; a fire that __**couldn't **__be extinguished. Nor did they want it to be. They revelled in the body against theirs; lips against lips, breasts against chest as they joined in searing passion._

_He couldn't get enough of her; hearing her, smelling her, tasting her and when she began to shake, her whispered mantra of 'moremoremore' elicited __**his**__ moans. He bit down hard; marking her as his…it was only fair; she owned __**him. **__She threw back her head as she cried out and he let her hands fall as he held tight to her slick body. _

_Her hands wound into his hair and she pulled his head back; lifting his gaze to hers. And when he looked into her eyes, he felt himself tense; and she said the one word that would drive him over the edge. _

_His body exploded in unimaginable bliss; his nerves on fire as cried out her name; his gaze locked to hers as she shuddered with him. Their gasps now filled the room as they rocked and swayed; discovering a deeper pleasure…a __**craving **__for each other. He pushed her hard against the wall; not wanting this to end; her not-so-quiet pleas letting him know she didn't either. He leaned in; running his tongue across her lips before it delved inside; looking for its partner. Their rhythm increasing again as they built towards another heat-filled eruption. _

_This time their moans were held between their kiss; locking them together in ecstasy so intense, it rocked them both. They broke the kiss only to scream out their pleasure; every sense afire as they drowned in each other…_

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_He walked through the darkness; wispy tendrils of fog swirling around his ankles as the crescent moon cast eerie shadows on and around him. Nothing but silence filled his surroundings…well __**almost **__nothing. He could __**hear **__his heart beating furiously in his chest; **hear** the blood rushing through his ears as he tried to calm his ragged breathing. _

_His breath pushed out ahead of him, frigid air cloaking him as icy sweat stole down his brow. Sweat borne out of premonistic fear. He tried to lift a hand to brush at it but the only movement allowed him was the steady progression of his feet as they took an unknown path._

_The chill sank deeper; numbing his skin as it cut into his muscles. He hunched his shoulders against the now biting wind; willing his feet to stop but they refused to listen. He pushed onwards; his lips now blue as his body shook; fighting against the icy mist that curled up his legs; legs that were starting to slowly fail him._

_He stumbled; trying to put his hands out to stop his fall. The fear that surged through him at the thought of sinking into the fog, was greater than any fear he'd felt before. But __**that **__fear was overridden as he felt glacial fingers grab his deadened arms, squeezing painfully as he was righted. The not-so-gentle push of those fingers were like arctic needles in his back as he was propelled forward._

_He tried to control the chattering of his teeth; tried to control the violent shivering but __**everything **__here was **out **__of his control. The only thing he held jurisdiction over was his fear. He took an icy breath; the air stinging his lungs as he fought the fear back. Defiance rising through him as his wintry journey continued._

_The darkness began to recede; and he looked down. The fog at his feet now a gauzy mist and he now understood his fear of the vapour. Screaming faces; howling visages; terror filled eyes and open mouthed shrieks swirled in the cursed smoke. Anguished eyes in woeful suffering screaming out at him; outstretched arms beseeching him…_

_He tried to lift his head from the tormented swamp but his eyes were held fast; forced to watch as the faces now turned. The tortuous screams slowly changing. The screams that were now malevolent laughter; the anguished eyes that were now lit with depraved madness; the beseeching arms that now dragged at him. _

_The frosty fingers of the damnable swamp dug painfully into his calves; clawing their way upwards as they tried pull him into their embrace. Their acid-filled laughter filled his ears as it echoed soullessly around this hellish place. The smoky tendrils snaking up his body; curling round him as it tightened. His breathing became laboured as the breath was forced from his lungs. The smoke coiled round his throat; raising up as it bobbed and weaved in front of his eyes…poised to strike. He opened his mouth to scream as the smoke took on a familiar face…_

_The mist struck…_

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Dean sat up slowly; his body slick with sweat and he groaned as the damp sheets stuck to him. _What was he? A twelve year old boy now? _He looked over at Sam; his arm was thrown over his eyes as he snored softly. _Good, _he thought. The last thing he needed was Sammy waking up now and taking the piss. He laughed softly to himself as he kicked the stained sheets back and went to the bathroom; _taking the piss. _Funny how _that _phrase popped up.

He closed the door to the bathroom quietly and started the shower. A cold one. He stepped under the numbing water and let is slide over his body; the shock of the icy jets in stark contrast to the heat of the dream.

He hung his head; the water beating an arctic drum against his neck as he tried to forget about the dream. It was no use; it had seemed so damn _real. _Like she'd been in the room with him. He sighed and raised his face to the water; this wasn't _like _him. Yeah, he liked her and they were pretty close after all they'd been through...and those three days…he grinned to himself; well that'd been a _hell _of a ride. But they hadn't spoken in almost two months. And now she's showing up in his dreams?

He shook his head and looked at his watch; just after 3am here. So what damn time was it there? Didn't matter. He stepped from the shower; leaving the water running as he wrapped a towel around his waist; slipping from the bathroom and grabbing his phone. He looked over at Sam and saw his brother shiver. He went to the motel window and closed it; pulling a blanket over Sam before going back to the bathroom.

He left the shower running; he wanted privacy for this phone call. Not that he knew what he was going to say, but there was more to this dream than just some...well, there was just more to it.

He stared at the bathroom door as his phone made the connection…the same connection that had been made in his dream.

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Sam sat up quickly; a strangled gasp caught in his throat as his eyes skittered about the motel room "JesusJesusJesus..." he muttered as he pulled the blanket around him in an effort to stop his shivering. What the _hell _kind of dream….no, _not_ a dream; a freakin' _nightmare. _And one of the worst one's he'd _ever _had; and he'd had some pretty shitty ones so that was a damn big call.

His eyes flicked to the bathroom as he finally noticed the running water of the shower. He looked at his watch; 3.14am. What the hell was Dean doing having a shower now? But he didn't get time to ponder that question as another shiver stole through him; bringing him back to the nightmarish horror.

He picked at the memories of it; gathering what he could before it all started to disappear. The biting cold; the loss of control over his body; the faces.._Jesus…_the faces. He ran his hands over his face; ignoring the slight tremble in his fingers as they pushed through his hair. But it was that _last _face that had him worried. That last face that had pushed into him, screaming in violent rage.

He looked towards the bathroom door again as he reached for his phone. He stopped mid-reach as he saw the bruises that were beginning to form on his arms. The bruises from the icy fingers that had grabbed him in the nightmare; digging painfully into his arms. _Oh, this was __**not **__good. _He grabbed the phone; scrolling through the names til he found the one he needed. He had to do this quickly; the last thing he needed was for Dean to come out and see the worry on his face…worry that was tinged with fear.

He stared at the bathroom door as his phone made the connection…the same connection that had been made in his nightmare.

_**To be continued…**_


	2. Reaching Out

_(A/N: WARNING: This story is rated for 'sexual content' …and the usual 'language' that peppers my stories. Read on…but you have been warned - grins) _

(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural related; the following story and the characters of Riley and Dee belongs to me)

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**Requiem.**

**Chapter Two.**

Dark, lazy clouds swirled aimlessly in the mid-afternoon sky as brief flashes of lightning sheeted across the sombre heavens, teasing those below with promises of tempestuous fury. There was an electricity in the air that was more than just the incandescent flashes that lit the sky.

A storm was brewing; a simmering squall that mirrored the one that was churning inside the mind of another. A mind that hadn't felt the beginnings of the sly infiltration, hadn't noticed the insidious infection that began to thrive inside them. A mind that was unaware of the tumult that raged within their psyche ...and that now fit like a well-worn coat.

It had began as a small trickle almost two months ago; the first caustic drop seeping into the mind as it began its slow, poisonous journey. The subtle drips oozing through unguarded channels; seeping into the crevices as it searched for the darkness that had always been there. A darkness that had been pushed deep into the recesses of that mind, pushed away to _never _be dealt with.

But like a cancer, it thrived in those shadowy fractures; slinking silently through murky pathways and weaving toxic trails as it cautiously contaminated its' new nest. It was a discreet invader; leaving only subtle innuendoes of its passage as it slowly took control of its host. An undetectable parasite whose viperous fangs slipped soundlessly into the vulnerable circuits of its victim as it gradually took control of what was seen, felt and heard.

A control for which the host was unaware…

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Riley pushed off the ground; swinging lazily on the tyre-swing that hung from the large Eucalypt tree. The shade and her beer, gave little release to the heat of the day, but she would take what she could. She gazed at the storm clouds that growled in the distance; they were nothing more than a tease, a promise of rain that was never going to fall to earth. Their deep rumbles like mocking laughter on the hot, dry winds. Laughter she now heard echoed from her mother's 'special orchard'.

She looked up, frowning as Dee's resonant laugh floated over the sun-baked farm. There'd been a lot of that lately. It didn't sit well with her. It wasn't that Dee _wasn't _a happy person by nature…well not to outsiders anyway, but she _knew _her friend and something wasn't sitting quite right with her. It was nothing Riley could put her finger on. By all outward appearances it was the same ol' Dee, but she'd noticed a far-off look in Dee's eyes on occasion. A far-off look that was often followed by a wistful smile; a smile that sometimes made Riley shiver.

Dee was also disappearing for hours at a time; begging off Riley's company as she roamed around the large farm by herself, wanting _'alone time'. _She knew Dee well enough to let that go; but she _had _followed her one time; curiosity _always_ got the better of her. But she'd lost Dee amongst the thick scrub that surrounded the property. She searched for a good half hour and had been about to turn back when she'd felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

She'd crept slowly through the bush, gun in hand, her senses on high-alert. She always trusted her instincts and they were telling her…no, _screaming _at her that something was dangerously wrong. She'd felt the goose-bumps rise on her arms as the almost inaudible sound of soft laughter wove its way towards her and she increased her pace.

She'd found Dee sitting on a large rock, that same wistful smile on her face. She'd sat next to her friend, not saying anything until Dee had turned surprised eyes to her. Dee had laughed at Riley's concern, saying she just needed some time out from her mother's prying questions. Riley had nodded slowly at Dee's lie. Her mother _never _pried. It wasn't that she didn't care; she was just too stoned to ask.

Riley was dragged back from the memory by the ringing of her phone; she pulled it from her shorts and frowned at the caller I.D. before flipping the phone open quickly.

"Dean? Is everything okay?" she asked; trying to control the worry in her voice.

She heard him laugh softly; frowning again as she heard _his _voice tinged with nervousness _"Aaah, yeah. Fine. Me and Sammy are fine."_

She looked at her watch "What _time _is it there?"

"'_Bout 3.30am."_

"Oookay. I know you love your down-time, Dean. So what's up?"

"_You okay?" _

"Yeah, fine"

"_Bullshit. What is it?" _

"Nothing. I'm fine. Now tell me what's wrong." She waited "Dean?" she asked again when she heard nothing but static over the line "Dean. I'm on the other side of the freakin' world, so I can't kick your arse but I _will _when I get back if you don't tell me what the hell's wrong."

She smiled when she heard him laugh _"You're still a pain in the ass even if you __**are **__on the ass-end of the world."_

"Yeah, to know me is to love me. Now what is it?"

He hesitated again _"Aaah, have you…been having …dreams?"_

"What?"

"_**Dreams, **__Riley. You know, images that happen when you sleep?"_

"Okay. One? You're getting an arse kicking for rolling your eyes at me. And two, _everyone _dreams, Dean." she paused "Or …do you mean dreams about Lilith?"

He sighed _'No. Not those kind of dreams….other …ones…" _he stammered.

Riley frowned then began to laugh softly "You been dreaming about me, Dean?" she teased. She groaned softly when she heard the connection click in her ear. She dialled his number automatically and he answered immediately "Don't hang up. Sorry, okay? Now tell me what you're talking about."

She heard him sigh and smiled. She could picture him running a hand through his hair, making it go in all directions; a grin not far from his lips. And at that time of the morning, he'd be wearing nothing but… She stopped _that _mental image before it took hold, but not before another smile graced her lips.

"_I don't know what is was, Riley. But…you…it was so damn real…" _he sighed again _"Look, I'll call you tomorrow. I need to get some sleep."_

"Dean…"

"_Tomorrow."_

The connection clicked in her ear again and she dialled another number, only to get a 'busy' signal. She sighed; putting the phone distractedly in her pocket as she resumed her lazy swing; her brow furrowing as she tried to figure out what the hell was going on with her friends.

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Dee was sitting cross-legged on the ground; a joint nestled between her fingers as she listened to Riley's mum prattle on about something or other. She was glad for the gentle buzz; it wasn't that she didn't like Virginia, but you could only hear _so _much about dope plants and their many uses before you wanted to blow your brains out.

Virginia stopped her unrelenting 'education' and turned to Dee "So Cin's alright?"

Dee laughed softly at Virginia's nickname for Riley; Riley _hated _it. "She'll be fine, Ginny. I promise. Takes a fair bit to rattle your daughter, trust me."

Virginia nodded as she continued to 'harvest' her plants "I know she and Jack were close."

"Jack was one of the good guys, Ginny. There were no hard feelings or bad words between them before he died. They're good."

"I'm glad. Having unresolved issues…" she shook her head, "death is so _final. _Imagine not being able to say the things you always wanted, before losing someone?"

Dee nodded slowly "Imagine." she muttered to herself. She turned her head slowly as she heard the soft rustling of plants off to her right; a small smile touching her lips as she saw a flash of colour. "Back in a bit, Ginny."

She rose quickly; handing the joint to Riley's mum before making her way through the 'orchard', instinctively following the path of the 'visitor'. She wove through the dope plants; catching glimpses of blue and red as it dashed through the greenery. She increased her pace; the sweltering heat of the day making her sweat as she began to run after her quarry.

"Stop….please…" she begged. _"Please…"_

She pushed through a dense thicket of plants and stared into his smiling face; her own face splitting into a wide grin as she went to him. His faint whispers in her ear as he held her close, soothed her harried nerves and calmed her racing heart. She listened as his words sang into her and she smiled at the long-missed sound of his voice, nodding at his promises to her. Everything would be alright now. She knew that. But she also knew this was a secret she had to keep to herself. The others wouldn't understand.

She closed her eyes as she breathed in his familiar scent; drinking it deep into her as she nestled against him. Time. It all came down to time. He'd explained it to her and she understood now. Understood what was expected of her.

She tried to ignore the annoying sound of something registering in her mind but it wouldn't stop, and her calm began to turn to anger. It wouldn't _stop! _She felt lips brush softly against hers and then the aching pain of emptiness as the phone cut through her world.

She grabbed the phone from her pocket "WHAT?"

"_Aaah, Dee? It's Sam. Everything alright?"_

Dee closed her eyes and took a steadying breath "Yeah, Sam. Fine. It's the middle of the night there, what do you want?" She heard Sam hesitate "Well?"

"_I just wanted to make sure you and Riley were doing okay." _

"We're fine" she said tersely.

"_Really? You don't sound it, Dee. What is it?"_

Dee's anger boiled over "For fuck's sake, Winchester! I said we're bloody well fine! Riley's dad's dead; her mother's a dope-junkie who won't stop talking and it's too goddamn hot here! _And _I'm getting stupid phone calls in the middle of the day! Now what is it you want to know?"

"_Know? How about why you're so pissed, Dee?" _he paused and added softly _" You realise there's only a month left before…"_

She cut him off "I know damn well, Sam! A month. Lovely. Thanks for ringing me from the other side of the world and letting me know."

"_When are you and Riley coming back?" _he asked; ignoring the venom that screamed over the phone at him.

"When we're bloody well ready. And tell your brother if he's using you and me to check on Riley, he can ring her himself." She flipped the phone shut; her anger coursing through her veins as she sucked hot, dry air into her lungs. _Bastard! _She thought to herself, kicking out at the dirt in unrepressed fury. Sam had taken him away from her.

She turned, making her slow way back to Ginny; the gentle whispering like a soft caress as it worked the mind in which it lived. Oh, Sam would _pay _for that. And if Riley or Dean got in her way; then they'd pay too. Her mind seethed at the loss that ripped into her; they would pay _dearly._

She broke through the mass of plants and right into Virginia's surprised face. The woman frowned at her; taking a tentative step forward.

"You alright, Dee?"

Dee smiled brightly "Right as rain, Ginny. Right as rain"

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The cicada's chirruped loudly; the sultry night bringing little relief to the three women sitting on the porch. Riley was nursing a beer, listening half-heartedly to her mother as she surreptitiously watched Dee. Her friend's moods had been swinging wildly all afternoon. She'd tried to broach it with Dee but she'd just waved Riley off, saying the heat was getting to her. Riley hadn't pushed her friend; that never worked. You just had to wait her out…or wait 'til the right time to _not_ take 'no' for an answer and escape with your head intact. Those times were very few and far between.

Riley downed the last of her beer, refusing another as she headed to bed. It was too damn hot and her mother's voice was nothing but white-noise now. All she wanted to do was shower and crash out; hoping that maybe tomorrow she'd be able to speak to a more receptive Dee.

She didn't notice the anger that flashed briefly in her friend's eyes as they followed her passage into the house; all she heard was the striking of a match and the sweet smell of ganja as it followed her inside.

The shower had refreshed her a little and falling into the crisp white sheets had been a welcome relief. She let her mind drift; going over the events of the day before coming back to the odd conversation she'd had with Dean. She'd call him in the morning; there was more to what he'd told her than just having a dream. If it had been nothing more than a wet-dream, he wouldn't have rung her. No there was more to it. She'd ring him tomorrow and get him to explain _exactly _what had happened. _Th__at _should be an interesting conversation; she smiled as sleep finally claimed her …

_Steam filled the bathroom; swirling in and around itself as it fogged up the mirror. The water lapped gently in the bath; soft moans filling the room as her soapy hands ran over his chest. She teased his nipples; his moan caught between their lips as her hands traced down his abs, slipping under the water as they moved lower._

_His fingers whispered up her stomach; caressing her as she caressed him; his hands moving expertly over her as she found that spot, just behind his ear, that was his weakness. Her moans joining his as she stroked him. She nipped her way back to his lips; his skin moist to the touch as they traced back up his body. His moan of disappointment as she removed her hands changing to one of pleasure as her body slid against his._

_His fingers followed the trails of moisture that trickled down her back, reaching her hips as he pushed her down. She moved slowly, savouring the feel of him against her, hard and wet; his lips soft, his tongue teasing hers. The water moved softly around them; caressing them as they caressed each other. The candlelight danced on the walls and their bodies as they indulged in the other's body._

_She raised herself slowly, letting the water dance around him before claiming him again. Her moans matching his as she rocked on him; his strong hands like fire on her body as they moved all over her, leaving nothing untouched. _

_He tore his lips from hers and she gasped as he bit her; the pain bringing more pleasure to her; a pleasure she transferred to him. Their movements were now reflected in the water as it raged around them; their slick bodies sliding against each other; their pleas for more making sense to only them… 'moredeeperhardermoreyesgodyesfuckmehardermoremore'…_

_The rush of words now matching the rush of hands, mouths, bodies as they slid over and on each other; their senses on fire as they forgot about everything but the body against theirs. She pulled his head up; the lust in his eyes mirrored in hers. Her body shook as he drove himself into her; their eyes and bodies locked together as ecstasy flooded through them. An ecstasy that screamed through her; a scream she voiced as she threw her head back; his lips going to her throat as she shuddered on him. _

_His urgent pleas of 'hardermorehardermoremoreminemine' as he bit her, bringing another bliss-filled moan and igniting a fiery passion that had been uncontrollable since they first met. The hard body against hers was slick with water and sweat as she writhed on him and he began to tense as he built and built._

_He raised his lips to hers, locking them in a searing kiss as he thrust hard and deep, erupting inside her as the water splashed around them; spilling, as he did. He held her against him as his mind and body exploded in ecstasy; his body afire as he set hers ablaze in lust and desire. The water that lapped around them was unable to douse the burning hunger for each other. Their fervoured cries of rapture filling the steamy room as another passion-filled shudder shattered through them... _

Riley's eyes snapped open; her body was drenched in sweat; her heart was racing and her body still shook from the remnants of the dream. _Jesus…_she thought to herself as she pushed back the damp sheet. She rose on shaky legs and slipped quietly from the room; glancing at the sleeping form of Dee in the other bed as she eased the door shut.

She padded softly to the kitchen, grabbing her phone and a bottle of water as she went to the porch. She sighed; the humidity was worse at night. The darkness seemed to act as a net, keeping the stifling heat trapped within the shadows. She gulped the water as she automatically dialled the number she needed.

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The black beast crested the hill; her engine rumbling deeply on the crisp afternoon air as she chewed up the blacktop. Dean stared out the windscreen; his attention seemingly focussed on the road ahead as Zeppelin blasted from the speakers. His fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel in time to the music, but his mind was elsewhere. The dream. The goddamn dream that made him shift uncomfortably in his seat if he thought too long about it. All he had to do, though, was remember the awkwardness of the phone-call afterwards and he sat a little better.

He hadn't noticed the pre-occupation of his brother. He'd studiously avoided all eye contact with Sam as they'd packed their bags and headed out. Sam's uncharacteristic silence hadn't registered either. The dream took up most of his thoughts and it was beginning to piss him off. He ground his teeth; it was time to find a bar, drown the dream in alcohol and pick up the hottest chick he could find.

"You want to hit a bar, Sammy?" he asked; his eyes not straying from the road ahead.

"Yeah, sure." Sam replied. He didn't care that it was the middle of the afternoon; he needed something to calm his nerves before he made the call to Riley. He also needed the privacy. He didn't want Dean knowing he was ringing her. Not yet. He'd suss out Riley and then _maybe _broach the subject with his brother. Dean was uncharacteristically private when it came to Riley; unless of course you were in the room next to theirs and then …he closed his eyes; blocking _that _memory as he felt the Impala slow.

Dean eased the Impala into the parking lot of the first bar they came across; parking next to a beat-up old pick-up truck and a couple of shining motorbikes. He eased the door open; the biting wind of the winter day like stinging needles against his face.

"Come on, Sammy. It's freakin…" he was stopped by the ringing of his phone. He pulled it from his jacket, frowning as he read the caller I.D. He turned to his brother "I'll meet you inside." turning his back on Sam and walking towards the rear of the car.

Sam nodded at the retreating form of his brother; slamming the door of the Impala and jogging up the stairs of the bar. He'd ring Riley while Dean was on the phone. He pushed through the door; glancing back at Dean and noting the relaxed slump of his shoulders. Dean would be a while; he smiled as he turned from the blistery weather and into the welcoming warmth of the bar.

Dean waited til he heard Sam jog up the stairs before answering the phone "Riley."

"_Aaah, hey…" _

He looked at his watch; it was just after 2am where she was. He knew what had happened "So, I rocked your dream-world did I?"

"_Very funny, Dean."_

"Am I lying?" he asked; unable to stop the grin forming on his face.

"_No. And stop grinning. Why'd you do that?"_

"Do what?" he laughed softly "Ride you like a teeter-totter?"

"_I was doing the riding, Romeo. Now why'd you do that?"_

"Do _what, _Riley? So we had …dreams…" he started.

"_Don't play dumb with me, Winchester. You rang me because there's something not right with this. You know it and I know it."_

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair "When are you coming back?"

"_It's two in the freakin' morning, Dean. I can't exactly book me and Dee flights at this time. We're in the bush ….stop laughing…."_

"Sorry." he laughed again "Actually, I'm not." He looked at his watch "Look, give me half an hour and I'll call you back with flight details." he grinned "Give you time to have a cold shower…and I _know _you're giving me the finger." he laughed when she swore "You can give me details later."

"_Bollocks"_

"A clue…come _on._ Something. You know you want to."

She laughed softly _"Nope" _

"You give me_ one_ word and I'll book you first class." he teased.

"_Uh huh. And just __**how **__can you afford that?"_

He laughed "Not me…" he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and flicked through his cards, smiling as he found the one he needed "But _'Jose Cuervo' _can. Now…you were saying?"

Riley laughed softly _"You book us first class and I'll give you a blow-by-blow description."_

Dean laughed "Blow-by-blow? Awesome. Okay, where's my word?"

He heard her hesitate before a whispered _"Bath" _came across the line.

"_Now first class tickets. I'll be waiting." _

The phone went dead in his ear and he laughed to himself as he went back to the Impala. He sat in the passenger seat and grabbed the laptop from Sam's bag. As much as he wanted to hear about the porn, he'd heard the undercurrent of worry in her voice. She'd felt the same thing he had. There was more to this than just wet-dreams and both of them having them in the space of twelve hours? Yeah, like _that _was a coincidence. They needed to figure this out and it was something he _couldn't _discuss with Sam. He'd get Riley back here and they'd go from there.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam was sipping distractedly as his beer as he tried Riley's number again. He sighed in relief as he finally got through, but that quickly turned to confusion at her greeting.

"_Damn, how horny are you? It was just a __**dream."**_

"Aaah, okay" laughed Sam "And really not all that horny right now, Riley."

"_Jesus….Sam?"_

He laughed again "Yeah. Who'd you think it was?"

"_No one. It's 2.30 in the morning, Sam. What's up?"_

"I…aah…how are you?" he paused "Apart from horny."

"_Very funny. But I'm fine. Now why are you ringing? Truth."_

"How's Dee?" he heard her hesitate "Riley?"

"_Why d'you ask?"_

"Humour me,"

"_She's fine."_

"Don't lie."

"_Who said I'm lying?"_

Sam laughed "Because it's 2.30 in the morning and even on the other side of the world I can hear your worry. Now spill." He heard her hesitate again then a 'beep' come through the line.

"_I gotta take this call, Sam. I'll speak to you later." _

Sam swore as the phone went dead in his ear. Well he had the confirmation that something was definitely up. Now all he needed was to convince Riley and Dee to head back here or he'd have to drag a screaming Dean onto an aeroplane for the long trip down-under. He sighed; yeah, like _that_ would ever happen.

He ordered another beer and a shot of tequila; downing the firewater as he waited for his brother. His mind went back to last night's dream; there was more to it than just a nightmare. It didn't have the same feel as a vision did... and his visions never left bruises on him either. This was something else entirely. What that was, was anyone's guess. But with Dee only having a month left before ol' yellow eyes came for her, he figured it wasn't going to be anything _good._

He looked up as Dean parked himself in the seat next him and grabbed a beer. Sam piqued an eyebrow at the grin that was plastered on his brother's face. "Ooookay…what's up?"

Dean sculled the rest of his beer and stood "Come on, Sammy. We gotta get to North Carolina by tomorrow night."

"North Carolina?" asked Sam as he finished his beer in three gulps, following his brother out of the bar "Why?"

Dean jogged down the stairs "'Cause Riley said she'd kick my ass if we didn't meet her and Dee at the airport"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_The walls of the cabin ran thick with blood; it tracked languidly down the timber, sluicing into the cracks before pooling in large crimson puddles at the base. It oozed slowly across the floorboards, searching for its owner but finding another who revelled in the depravity that had been committed here._

_He raised his dagger again, bringing it down with as much force as he could muster. The wet thud as it struck home bringing a licentious smile to his face. His teeth were startlingly white against his blood soaked face; his manic eyes ablaze with frenzied excitement as he followed his orders._

_He threw his dagger aside; its clattering as it skidded across the floor not registering as he pushed his hands into the mutilated chest of their victim. He slid slick, red fingers under the ribs and wrenched them apart; the crack of splintering bone echoing like a gunshot around the small room. _

_His breathing came in short, ragged gasps as his hands closed gently around the heart. He ripped the organ from the man, his body shuddering in ecstasy as he offered the prize to his master. She reached forward; her fingers brushing against his as she took his offering; her corruptly benign smile finally tipping him over the edge. _

_He fell forward, his body convulsing on the butchered carcass underneath him. The warmth of the blood and flesh that coated him bringing another debauched deliverance. He finally rolled off the corpse, breathing heavily as he looked into malevolent eyes._

"_The first step has been taken" she hissed; placing a cold, forbidding hand to his face, a baneful smile gracing her lips "Now we being __**our **__journey"_

_**To be continued…**_


	3. Fulfilled

_(A/N: WARNING: This story is rated for sexual content …and the usual language that peppers my stories. Read on…but you have been warned - grins) _

(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural related. The following story, and the characters of Riley and Dee belong to me)

* * *

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Three.**

Dean was leaning casually against a pillar; his hands shoved into his jean's pockets, his ankles crossed as he watched the Arrivals gate from underneath a furrowed brow. Even this late at night, the Raleigh-Durham International Airport was busy. The so-called 'normal' people were scurrying about like cockroaches exposed to sudden light; bustling their crying 2.1 children through the woollen-coated wall of 'Mom and Dad Average' and 'Mr Important Suit'. He shook his head with something akin to disdain; their biggest worry was getting to the gate on time so 'Uncle-I've-been-sober-for five-years' didn't make a bee-line to the bar; or whether there'd be a hot stewardess they could join the mile-high club with.

He sighed inwardly. He _hated _airports. It brought out the worst in others ...and the worst in him. It wasn't just the thought of getting on one of those metal death-traps that made his stomach sink, but bearing witness to the 'intimate family moments' of those departing or, in this case, arriving. It only brought home feelings of a life stolen, of how much he'd lost…how much he missed his mother and father. Yeah, airports were buckets'o'fun.

He looked at his watch and sighed again. The plane had been delayed an hour because of some freak storm over some shitty town he'd never heard of; which had meant more uncomfortable questions from Sam…and more lies from him. He glanced at his brother; Sam was leaning on the other side of the pillar, chewing on a thumb-nail, his eyes focussed on the gate. He knew Sam was worried about Dee, they both were. She had about a month left on the deal she'd made with ol' yellow-eyes and none of them knew what the hell was going to happen. And he was pretty sure Dee hadn't told Riley what she'd done either. Now _that _was gonna be a fun conversation. He grinned to himself; chick fight. Awesome.

"What are you grinning at?"

"Huh?" Dean shook his head with a smile "Nothin', dude. Nothin'."

Sam laughed softly "Yeah, alright." He glanced at his watch then back to Dean "So tell me _again _why they suddenly decided to come back now?" he asked as he watched his brother for another lie.

Dean shrugged "Riley just said it was time. She was having trouble booking flights…" he shrugged again "I did her a favour."

"Trouble."

Dean nodded, his eyes scanning the line of people that were starting to emerge from the Arrivals gate "Her mom lives in the middle of nowhere."

"And she called you."

Dean turned his eyes back to Sam's "Yeah. Is that a problem?"

Sam laughed "No, dude." He raised an eyebrow, a grin on his face "Unless I get a room next to yours, then yeah, it will be." He frowned slightly when Dean turned away from him. Had his brother just blushed? He shook his head; no way, not Dean. He must have been imagining things. He turned his eyes back to the gate, a grin forming on his face as he pointed. "There they are." He laughed as he saw Dee slap Riley upside her head then Riley smack her back. Looked like some things hadn't changed. He turned to Dean, a smart ass comment at the ready, but his brother was already on his way.

Sam caught up with him as they moved through the throng of welcomers. He watched his brother intently, looking for any sign of something out of the ordinary, but Dean seemed fine. He still had his usual swagger and he managed to move through the crush of people without _one _of them touching him. He silently cursed his brother as he made another apology to someone he pushed past; Dean looking over with a smart ass grin at his whispered cuss.

Dean turned back from his brother's ungainly passage through the masses and saw Riley and Dee making their way towards him. He stopped, grinning as he watched Riley's eyes move over him. There was nothing subtle about it… which only made his grin wider. Her eyes moved slowly back to his and he tried to slow his heart-beat as images from his dream crept into his mind… _His hands ran slowly up her body, teasing her as she teased him… her eyes closed and her head thrown back; her movements slow and rhythmic…_ he bit down on his tongue…_Their tongues performed a graceful dance as he rolled over; his body sliding against hers as pushed slow and deep…_

Riley was ignoring Dee's mumbled curses; her hand ready to stop another slap to her head, when she saw Dean. His hands were in his jeans, his shoulders holding that slouch he wore so well and the trademark, smart ass grin was on his face as he watched her. She couldn't help but run her eyes over him and she smiled as she met his eyes again; piquing an eyebrow as he did the same to her. She stifled a shiver as the dream resurfaced…_The water lapped gently in the bath; soft moans filling the room as her soapy hands ran over his chest, teasing his nipples…._ She dug her fingernails into her palms to try and stop the images…. _His fingers followed the trails of moisture that trickled down her back, reaching her hips as he pushed her down. She moved slowly, savouring the feel of him against her, hard and wet; his lips soft, his tongue teasing hers…_

Sam didn't notice the electricity that was passing between Dean and Riley; his gaze was unwaveringly focussed on Dee. She gave him a tentative smile and he gave her a tentative one in return as visions of the nightmare sent shivers up his spine… _Screaming faces; howling visages; terror filled eyes and open mouthed shrieks…_ He cleared his throat; scratching at it as he felt a tension build within him…_smoke coiled round his throat; raising up as it bobbed and weaved in front of his eyes…poised to strike…._

Dee kept a steady pace with Riley, muttering under her breath at the way they'd been treated at customs. She raised her eyes from the ground, a small smile forming on her lips as she saw Sam watching her. He returned the smile as she heard the gentle words whisper through her mind again…_Dies iræ, dies illa… _the hushed tones of that sweet voice… _Solvet sæclum in favilla… _the voice that made _everything _alright… _teste David cum Sybilla…_

The four hunters stood facing each other; none of them aware of the crowd in which they stood. They didn't notice the wide-berth they were given by those around them, travellers and greeters alike, sensing a formidable force in their midst; a sub-conscious awareness that screamed danger on their most primal level. The casualness of the four belying the hazards held within. The intensity of their eyes told the real story…and it was a tale they didn't want to hear. So they averted their eyes, held their children close and pushed the fear that rose in them, down; not completely understanding their reaction to the energy that seemed to surround the silent four.

Riley grinned at Dean, "So. You gonna take my bags or what, Winchester?"

Dean returned the grin, "You suddenly disabled?"

Riley piqued an eyebrow, "Well, my arse in numb from over twenty-two hours on a goddamn plane… " she laughed at his grin "That's right, I said _arse." _She shoved one of her duffel-bags at him "Take my bag, Jeeves."

Dean laughed "Jesus! What've you got in here?" he asked as he slung the bag over his shoulder.

"Boots." She grinned "And other assorted …things."

It was Dean's turn to raise an eyebrow "Things?"

She gave him a small smile as they turned to Dee and Sam; the two hadn't said a word, but the intensity of their gaze put a frown on both Dean and Riley's faces.

'Hi, Sam." Riley interrupted, her frown deepening as Sam seemed to _tear _his gaze from Dee's.

Sam grinned at her "Hey, Riley." He gave her a hug "How've you been?"

"Better now I'm off the plane. You?"

"Yeah, good, good." He gave her another grin as he took one of Dee's bags "Come on." He smiled at Dee "You must be hanging for a smoke…the cigarette kind I mean."

Dee's face seemed to come alive "I swear, Winchester. If I don't get some nicotine into this body, I'm gonna go all lone-gunman-on-the-clocktower."

"She means it." said Riley wearily, "I've had to listen to her bitching for twenty hours. We have to get out of here."

Dee was already on her way towards the doors; a cigarette between her fingers as she flicked her zippo open and closed repeatedly.

"She ever heard of patches?" asked Sam as they followed Dee out.

"You wanna try and suggest them, Sam?" she laughed softly, giving a slight shake of her head, "Go right ahead." She looked him in the eye, "You've got health insurance right?"

The automatic doors opened and they walked into the chilly night air; spotting Dee near a cab-rank, sucking back on what looked like her second cigarette.

"Jesus Christ!" said Riley as the wintry air wrapped itself around her "How freakin' _cold _is it here?" she dropped her bag, crouching as she rummaged through it, looking for her leather coat. "It was 40° when I left home!"

Dean grinned, his eyes on Riley's ass. "It's about 40° here."

"On your weird-arse temperature scale, yeah." Riley muttered as she finally pulled her coat from the bottom of her bag.

"Ow!"

She looked up, Dean was rubbing the side of his head as Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. She laughed softly as she slipped her coat on, "So where're you parked?"

"Not far." said Dean as they headed towards Dee "We saw a motel about twenty miles from here." he grinned at Riley.

"How about we go for a drink first?" Sam suggested "I mean, we haven't seen you guys for almost two months. We've got some catching up to do."

"Aaah, a drink?" she glanced at Dean. "You…umm…"

"I'm sure they're tired, Sammy." He glanced at Riley, "We can …ahhh…hit a bar tomorrow."

"Yeah, tomorrow. 'Cause a… bed sounds …good right about now," Riley stammered.

"See? They're tired …and a bed _does _sound…" he glanced at Riley again and grinned, "Good. Sooo…"

"A drink _also_ sounds good." said Dee as she ground out her smoke under the heel of her boot. She grinned at Sam "Lead on, MacDuff!" she put her arm around Riley's shoulders and led her after Sam; laughing softly as she ignored Dean's mumbled protests.

--

The bar was dark, the only real light coming from the garish neon booze signs that flashed above the bar. Smoke hung like a shroud over the large room that seemed filled to capacity as country music blared from the old Wurlitzer in the corner.

They found an empty table near the back and dropped their coats and jackets on the chairs as Dee slumped into one and lit a smoke; Dean and Sam settling either side of her.

"I'll get the beers then." said Riley with a smirk, "Make yourselves comfortable."

"Ta, luv!" Dee grinned at Riley's retreating figure as she disappeared amongst the crowd.

Dean drummed his fingers on the table before finally standing "I'll…help her." and he followed Riley to the bar.

Sam turned to Dee and grinned "So how long are we gonna torture them?"

Dee leaned back in her seat and smiled at Sam "Well I could _easily _hang out here for a good couple of hours watching them squirm. You?"

Sam laughed softly "After what they put us through in Nevada? Two hours just ain't gonna cut it." He put his feet on the chair opposite his and looked at Dee "So, how was Australia? Apart from hot."

Dee groaned "Hot?" she shook her head through a veil of exhaled smoke "If that yellow-eyed freak is taking me to Hell next month…" she stubbed out her smoke "That'll be a walk in the goddamn park." She turned to Sam "I…ahhh…" she sighed "I didn't mean to ..ahhh…"

"Tear me a new one?" laughed Sam.

"Yeah, that." said Dee awkwardly "You just caught me at a bad time."

"Forget about it." He watched Dee carefully; even though that wasn't an apology, it was the closest Dee ever got to one …and it wasn't like her. "You told Riley yet?"

She shook her head "I don't want to fight with her before…" she shook her head again "Besides, we don't know what the hell's gonna happen anyway. So, we'll just wait and see. Play it by ear."

"Look, Dee. Lilith's dead; there's no coming back for her. So if …"

Dee laughed hollowly "You think he's gonna let me off that easy? Come on, Sam." She looked over at him "You and your brother haven't got any hunts lined up have you?"

"Aaah, no. Why?" he shook his head in disbelief "You want to go on a _hunt?"_

She laughed loudly "No, you _twat._ I thought …you know…we could…live it up a little, ya know? It's been a while."

Sam echoed Dee's loud laugh "Dee, you've just spent the last two months stoned off your head."

She grinned at Sam "So why leave the party now?"

"Yeah, okay." He looked over at her again "So you're fine? Really? No…nightmares about…what's gonna…"

"Nightmares?" she asked; a frown creasing her brow. "Why would you ask that?"

Sam shook his head "No reason. Just…no reason."

Dee nodded and stood, stretching as her eyes scanned the crowd "If my beer's warm by the time those horny bastards get back from the bar, I'll kick their arses."

Sam sat up in his chair "Where're you going?" he asked a little too urgently.

"To _pee, _Sam. You wanna join me? You could powder your nose while you're waiting."

Sam shook his head with a smile as he pushed her "I've missed your comic wit, Dee."

She slapped Sam playfully upside the head as she headed to the bathroom; the smile dropping instantly from her face as she turned her back on him; her hands clenching into fists.

--

Riley was leaning against the bar, trying to get the attention of the bartender who was busy chatting up a Britney Spears look-alike on the other side of the bar. She sighed to herself; some people had _no _taste. She leaned over the bar and yelled to get the man's attention; the sooner she got the beers, the sooner they could _drink _them, and the sooner they could get _out _of here and to the motel. She bit the inside of her cheek as another dream-image rose in her mind… _their slick bodies sliding against each other; their pleas for more making sense to only them… 'moredeeperhardermoreyesgodyesfuckmehardermoremore'… _No _way, _was she waiting any longer. The dream was consuming almost every thought, more so now that she'd seen Dean.

"Hey!" she yelled again; finally getting the bartender's attention.

He sauntered over to her; resting his elbows on the bar in front of her "Whut is yo' six packin''?"

Riley frowned "Huh?"

"Four buds," came a voice at her ear, "And four shots of tequila."

The man nodded, "Four buds an' four shots."

Riley turned to Dean who was standing behind her; his hands resting on the bar either side of her; his body inches from hers "So English is a second language here?"

He grinned at her, "Not sure. I haven't really been thinking about talking."

She raised an eyebrow, "No?"

He shook his head "But I did see the new tatt on your ass." He grinned again "Well part of it…" he gripped the bar as another image of them slid into his mind; the images that had intensified since she'd arrived… _Her legs wrapped around him; holding him in place as his hand travelled over the firm but supple body underneath him; down to her ass; lifting her; wanting to be deeper; wanting more…and more…and more._ He leaned in "We drink, we go," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear, "I want to see the rest of that tatt."

"Yo! Buddy! Four'n'four! Time t'pay!"

Dean threw a twenty on the bar, "Keep the change."

"Awesome," the man turned, "Big spenner" he muttered, rolling his eyes as he stormed off.

They grabbed their drinks, "Drink and go," said Riley.

--

Dee leaned against the graffiti-covered stall in the surprisingly clean bathroom; her head was pounding and the muscles in her neck and shoulders were so tense, they were beginning to ache. She slowed her breathing in an attempt to calm herself; but the shaky exhale told her that calm was a long way off. She put the toilet lid down and sat; her head in her hands as she rubbed at her temples.

She didn't understand the headaches that had been plaguing her lately; they didn't last very long, but the severity of them meant it felt like they lasted forever. She couldn't exactly pinpoint when the last one was…it was just more of an…awareness …that she'd had them before. She groaned as she felt a sharp, stabbing pain rip through her mind and her hands clenched as she began to anger again. It was Sam and all those bloody questions! _That's _what it was. He was always prying, always wanting to know how she was! Him and those bloody puppy-dog eyes of his! Oh, that was just an act to suck you in… She was ripped from her thoughts by a loud rapping at the toilet door.

"HEY! Yo' 'bout done in thar?"

"Give me a minute!" Dee seethed.

"Hurry th' hell up! Ah'm gonna pee in mah pants!"

Dee stood slowly; her frown replaced by a winning smile as she opened the stall door "Sorry…broke the seal. You know how it is."

The dark-haired woman stared at Dee in confusion "Broke th' seal? Yer not frum aroun' here, are yo'?

It was Dee turn to stare at the woman in confusion "Aaah, no." she said before smiling at the woman again. She stepped past her "S'all yours."

The woman gave Dee an uncertain smile as she stepped past her; she turned to close the door and gasped as it was slammed back into her face; a hand covering her mouth and stopping the scream that rose in her. The door locking behind them with a loud, ominous 'click'.

--

Dee came back to the table as Riley and Dean returned from the bar. She smiled as she sat, picking up the tequila as the others did.

"One tequila!" she said with a grin; the four of them throwing the firewater back before slamming the glasses down on the table.

"Aaah, the memories." Riley grinned. She turned to Dean "Speaking of. How's your sword?"

He gave her a trade-mark grin "In working order. You can check it later." He ducked a slap from his brother as he picked up his beer "Drink up."

Sam and Dee looked at each other as Riley and Dean gulped at their beer "So, you get Jack all …sorted?" Sam asked.

Riley nodded "Mum wanted him to live on the mantel next to her prized plants but …" she shrugged "He's out by the swing like he wanted."

Sam turned to Dean as his brother opened his mouth "Don't say it."

Dean smirked "Killjoy."

Dee leaned back in her chair and grinned at Sam and Dean "Riley's mum's a trip. I swear, that woman _sleeps _with a joint in her mouth." She grinned at Riley "And she _loves _her 'Cin'."

Riley groaned "Will you _stop _it?"

Dean and Sam were laughing "Cin?"

Dee nodded "That's her nickname. She loves it."

"Bollocks. And if _any _of you call me that…" she threatened.

Dean leaned over and whispered in her ear and she laughed softly "Maybe." she teased.

Dee and Sam rolled their eyes at each other; "So you head back for any particular reason or…" started Sam.

Riley shrugged "Just time to head back is all."

"The first class tickets were a plus." said Dee. "Thanks, Winchester," she raised her beer to Dean.

Sam turned incredulous eyes to Dean "You flew them _first class?" _

"Leave him alone, he had incentive." said Riley with a grin.

"Besides, it wasn't me," Dean grinned "It was 'Jose Cuervo'."

"Cheers to Jose Cuervo!" said Riley and she and Dean sculled the rest of their beer.

"Okay." said Dean "Let's hit the road."

"Aaah, we're not finished." said Sam as he raised his almost full beer.

"You drink like a pussy, Sam." He grabbed his brother's beer and finished it "Come on."

Dee sculled the rest of her beer and stood "We're not gonna win this one, Sam. Come on."

Sam sighed, grabbing his jacket as he followed Dean, Riley and Dee through the bar; he stopped suddnely, turning as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He scanned the patrons in the bar but the crowd was six and seven deep in places. He felt a tug on his arm and turned as Dee dragged him from the bar.

He pushed the door open, scanning the crowd one last time before following Dee out the door. He'd missed something, he was _sure _of it.

--

Riley and Dee grabbed their bags from the trunk as Sam came back from the motel office.

"Here." said Sam as he passed a set of keys to Riley "That's your room there." he pointed and grinned "We're right next door."

"Aaah, you…"

"Only got two rooms?" grinned Sam "Uh huh. That's all they had left."

Dean took the keys from Riley and passed them to Dee "You're rooming with Sammy."

"I don't bloody well think so, Winchester." said Dee with a laugh. "I didn't spend twenty-two goddamn hours on a plane to bunk down with your brother."

"You say that like it's a bad thing…" said Dean with a grin. "He doesn't snore…well most of the time and he'll wear …"

"No." said Dee.

"Dee…" started Riley.

"You can bang him tomorrow, Riley." She grinned at her friend "Besides, anticipation is half the fun." Riley mumbled under her breath and Dee grinned at her "Didn't quite catch that, Dundee."

"Sleep with one eye open." said Riley as she grabbed the keys from Dee and headed to their room.

"Well…" grinned Dee at Sam and Dean "Guess we'll see you for breakfast then."

"Awesome." muttered Dean as he glared at a grinning Sam; turning on his heel and going to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Dee turned to Sam "There were more rooms available, weren't there?"

Sam laughed "Payback's a bitch. Night Dee." he walked towards his room; a smile on his face.

"Night Sam."

Sam put his hand on the door handle to his room and turned to Dee "Sleep well."

Dee frowned as she opened the door to her room "Yeah…aaah, you too." and she disappeared into her room.

Sam sighed as he pushed the door open and stared into the angry eyes of his brother. "Dude…" he laughed.

"I am _kicking _your ass."

--

Riley tossed and turned for a good hour before finally pushing the sheets back. The harder she tried to force the dream from her mind, the more it staked its claim on her. She sighed softly as she slipped out of bed and padded over to the mini-bar. She stared at the teeny-tiny bottles of alcohol for a long time before finally shutting the fridge, empty handed.

She leaned back against the counter and looked at Dee; her friend was sleeping more soundly than she had in a long time. She wasn't shifting around in the bed, she was lying peacefully on her side; her brow was smooth and not creased into the frown Riley had slowly got used to these last couple of months; and her breathing was steady and even. Seemed like Dee just needed to back in familiar territory.

Now if only _she _could get to sleep. But the minute she closed her eyes; she was swamped with visions of the damn dream. She looked at the wall that separated her room from Dean's; another image rising to her mind…. _She raised herself slowly, letting the water dance around him before claiming him again… his strong hands like fire on her body as they moved all over her, leaving nothing untouched… _

She hung her head; what the hell was _wrong _with her? She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing; it was _just _a dream! Sure, it was an _awesome _dream, no doubt about it; but this was _so _not _like _her. She liked Dean, yeah, but to have a _dream _affect her this way? No. It was _more _than that. And there was only one person she could speak to about it.

She went to her bag and grabbed one of Jack's old shirts; she stripped out of her tank-top and panties and put the shirt on. Well she wasn't gonna miss the opportunity. She buttoned the shirt as she went to the door; glancing at Dee's sleeping form as she slipped out the door, closing it quietly behind her.

She didn't notice the small smile that crept over Dee's lips.

--

Dean lay in his bed staring at the ceiling as he listened to his brother's steady breathing. At least _Sam _could sleep. And why was it so damn _hot _in here? He kicked the sheet from him and swung his legs out of bed, pulling his t-shirt over his head and wiping the sweat from his body as another image rose in his mind… _he pushed her against the wall; holding her hands above her head as he rocked his hips…her whispered mantra of 'moremoremore' eliciting __**his **__moans..._

He stood and went to the bathroom; splashing cold water on his face in an effort to rid the images. He sighed as he looked at his reflection in the mirror; what the hell was happening to him? It was just a dream. He'd had plenty of erotic dreams…although he hadn't had a wet one since he was about ten. Still, it was an awesome dream. He groaned inwardly; and there he went again. He had to sort this out; and there was only one person he could do that with.

He walked silently back to the room; slipped out of his boxers and into his jeans; he wasn't gonna waste the chance; and Riley had told him about the bath. He grinned as he buttoned his jeans on the way to the door. He glanced at his still sleeping brother as he opened it; slipping out and shutting it quietly behind him.

He turned to Riley's room and stopped as he saw her walking towards him. He didn't notice the coolness of the air around him or the slight wind that swept through the lot; all he saw was his lust reflected in her eyes….well that and her legs; the legs he wanted wrapped around him again.

He stepped towards her; pulling her against him as his lips found hers, a small moan escaping her as her hands slid slowly up his arms and down his chest. His tongue seeking hers as his hands slid down her back and over her ass, pulling her hard against him.

"Now…now…" she gasped between their kisses.

"Now…" he murmured, turning and pushing her against the Impala.

He ground his hips against hers, leaning her back on the hood as her hands whispered down his chest and unbuttoned his jeans, his moans mixing with hers as she coaxed him free. He didn't care where they were; all he knew was he had to have her. Nothing was gonna stop him. That they were in easy sight of anyonethat passed only heightened his desire for her.

His hands slid up her legs and he moaned loudly when he realised she was naked underneath the shirt. "Now?" he rapsed.

"_Now," _she demanded, wrapping her legs around him as he delivered on his promise.

She didn't feel the cold metal of the Impala at her back as he pushed her down, his hands going to the buttons on her shirt, flicking the first one before tearing the shirt open, his body sliding against hers. She didn't care that they were out in the open, where anyone could see them, all she knew was she wanted him any where and any way she could.

Her fingernails scraped down his back and then up again, moving into his hair as she pulled his lips harder against hers. He took her hands and held them above her head, his eyes travelling hungrily over the body underneath his, "More?" he whispered as he teased her.

"Moremorehardermore…" she whispered. And those words that echoed his dream, reached deep inside him, triggering a hunger for her that overwhelmed him.

Riley arched her back as Dean held her down, driving himself into her; his moans increasing with hers. There was no one but the two of them here, his body and hers, nothing but lust, desire…and a _thirst _for the other. And when he murmured _'hardermoregod__**fuck**__me' _against her throat as he bit it - she shook. The words he repeated from the dream searing into her and awakening an all-encompassing craving for him.

"Look at me," he demanded; she opened her eyes and stared into his, their breaths intertwining as they did "Say it," he said as he rolled his hips "_Say _it…" he whispered his plea as he tensed.

She looked deep into his eyesm _"Mine."_

It was the one word that drove him over the edge and she was the only one who knew it. He crushed his lips against hers as she claimed him...neither one aware of the eyes that watched their every move.

--

_His face remained mostly in the shadows; the dim light from the street-lamps filtering over full lips, a strong jaw, his eyes hidden by the darkness that seemed to always shroud him. He shifted his weight, it was a graceful, almost imperceptible movement, but the hard muscles that covered him, rippled with the slightest change in his posture. _

_His breathing increased and his hands tightened as a small smile touched his lips, the shadows hiding the light that burned in his eyes as he watched. He turned to __movement on his left, his face now completely eaten by the darkness._

"_Come back to bed…" whispered Dee._

_**To be continued…**_


	4. Smoke and Mirrors

(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural related; the following story, and the characters of Riley and Dee belong to me)

* * *

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Four.**

Dawn was slowly staking its' claim on the morn. The suns' sleepy rise over the dark horizon, pushing back the night as hazy shafts of light broke through the shadowy pre-dawn darkness. The furtive beams stole back the land, inch by precious inch, as the night reluctantly surrendered its' hold.

Daylight had another battle on its hands as it struggled against the fog that rolled down from the mountains. The thick, smoky cloud was like an eclipsing, ravenous monster with an insatiable appetite, devouring all it came across. It relentlessly chewed up the blacktop, the road slowly disappearing into the belly of the grey beast. It consumed the trees that lined the highway; no tree, big or small was spared. It swallowed houses whole; the faint lights from the homes disappearing as the dwellings did.

The fog blanketed the surroundings; the swirling cloud creeping under doors and slithering through windows as it tumbled forth. It snaked through homes, stole into bedrooms and whispered over the sleeping forms of those within, delving…exploring…discarding, before moving on.

It skulked onwards; moving steadily as it searched. The murky vapour was now an all-encompassing shroud; a misty cloak that enveloped this section of Raleigh, screening its contents from prying eyes. It couldn't, however, hide the obscure shadows that seemed to slink around the fog's diaphanous edges.

It made its way relentlessly forward, spilling into the motel parking lot and grazing over the black beast parked out front. It hovered over the hood, caressing the cold metal before slipping forward. It stopped and began to bob and weave between two doors; an indecisive spiral that blackened as it churned.

It billowed upwards, a swirling mass that found momentary form before dropping low; a decision made as it slid cautiously under the chosen door.

The bleak vapour swept into the room, slithering across the dark blue carpet as it searched. It wrapped itself around the leg of one of the beds, winding slowly upwards as it slid under the sheets. It crept forward; the wispy fingers inching towards the flesh it wanted. It coiled around an ankle; looping lazily up the leg and whispering over the torso. The dark mist followed the contour of the body; veering down an arm and slinking over the body it held, encircling the two as it drifted upwards.

It lightly stroked their faces, whispering over their cheeks, curling round their heads…getting to _know _them. It disregarded the frowns that formed as they slept; ignored the tightening of their arms around the other; the racing of their hearts only spurring the dark fog on. The misty fingers brushed across their lips, silencing the troubled murmurs. It tip-toed over the eyelids, the rapid-eye-movement nothing more than a minor distraction as it held the lids closed….waiting.

The fog that boiled at the end of the bed suddenly surged; rising up and billowing towards the ceiling. It rippled across the textured plaster; a sooty mushroom cloud that silently rumbled around the small room. Its true intent, never more clear. But it went unnoticed by two of the room's occupants; their captured sleep now holding them in place. They were prisoners within their own minds, their subconscious only partly aware of what was happening. A subconscious that was blind-folded and gagged.

The inky smoke at the base of the bed started to settle, drawing back from the ceiling and conforming to the indistinct figure held within. It raised a filmy hand, giving the signal; the faint chuckle that fluttered round the room, bringing spontaneous goose-bumps to the skin.

The shadowy fog that blanketed to two, crept upwards; a slow, purposeful journey towards the ears. It hesitated only briefly before snaking into the minds of its prey. It followed the small channels, knowing its path…searching for the memories it needed…the memories it would manipulate. It slid through the circuits of their minds as it began its insidious innuendo's; words spoken in the hushed tones of those that were long gone…

_Dean could feel the warmth of Riley's body against his; he just couldn't understand the cold that snaked around him. He felt the first stirrings of his instinct start to kick-in, but it was quashed as he heard a voice he'd yearned to hear for too long…_

"_Dean…"_

"_Mom?"_

Dean frowned in his sleep; a frown that deepened the more he listened. His mind was barely aware of the vaporous hand that drifted over his forehead, smoothing the frown and stirring a memory from his childhood; a time when he'd felt safe, wanted…loved. A time when throwing the ball around with his dad every afternoon after his father came home from the garage was the highlight of his day; and when his mother's soft voice lulled him to sleep with the telling of his favourite fairytale. A time when life had held promise and he'd still had his innocence. He settled; his arms tightening around Riley as he listened to his mother.

Riley was also fighting the instinct that told her all was not right. But the hushed undertones that whispered through her mind, and the arms that tightened around her, made her listen…

"_Riley…"_

"_Dad?"_

_She could hear the smile in Jack's voice "Yes, sweetheart."_

"_What…I ...I don't understand….what's going on?"_

"_You need to listen to me, Riley. Listen and do __**exactly **__as I say….'_

"_But…"_

"_No 'buts', Riley. Now __**listen…"**_

Riley frowned in her sleep; a frown that deepened the more she listened. Her mind was barely aware of the vaporous hand that drifted over her forehead, smoothing the frown as a soft, off-key song sighed through her mind. It took her back to time when she'd felt cared for, wanted…loved. When life was more than her mother's smoke-fuelled, drug haze and food was more than peanut-butter sandwiches that weren't dotted with her blood as she'd tried to cut the bread herself. A time when life had held promise and the chance for innocence had returned. She settled; nestling against Dean as she listened to her father.

The amorphous shadow that loomed over the bed began to shake; it raised an indistinct hand and flicked it towards the other bed. Small bursts of dark cloud shot from its vague form, zig-zagging towards the now restless form of the dark-haired man. The sullied smoke settled gently over the man's face; small parts breaking free as they travelled down his arms and wrapped around his wrists; more cloud-bursts sneaking under the sheets and encircling his ankles. That one would now be no trouble.

It waited.

The diaphanous hand was finally raised again; the smoky tendrils slithering slowly from the minds of the two; covering their tracks as they made their retreat. They slid from the ears of their hosts, leaving a sweet reminder of the other in their minds. It released the eyelids and ungagged the lips; withdrawing discreetly. It curled slowly down the torsos, leaving imprints of the other on the body it was fleeing. It drifted from under the sheets and rejoined its source.

The fog churned again as it was made whole; swelling to fill the room before being sucked suddenly to the floor. It skulked towards freedom; slinking through the carpet and gliding, unnoticed, under the door.

The seeds had been planted.

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Dean felt the first stirrings of wakefulness start to take hold, and a lazy smile spread over his lips as memories from last night drifted through his mind. He turned to the body next to his, throwing an arm across Riley and pulling her close. His lids slipped closed as he kissed her bare shoulder softly, his mother's words lulling him back to sleep; another smile gracing his lips as Riley's hand closed over his. His mother was right. She was _always _right.

Riley smiled in her sleep as she felt Dean against her; the words of her father, a faint accompaniment to the memories of her and Dean that floated through her mind. She nodded to herself as Dean's arm tightened around her, her fingers intertwining with his as deep sleep claimed her again. She would listen to her father. She _always _did.

Sam brushed the last vestiges of sleep from him; he wondered at the ache in his wrists as his hands rubbed at eyelids that seemed too heavy. He sighed silently as his thoughts were drawn to the weirdness of last night's dream..._another _one. It wasn't the frightening nightmare of the other day, but _this _dream…it was like he was watching himself through a veil of …fog. He couldn't describe it any other way. He gave in to the weight of his lids and concentrated on the memory of the dream. He forced his mind to relive it, but it seemed to slide away from him the harder he thought…like it had a will all its own. It darted left and right as his mind chased it down. He caught small glimpses of a dark, churning cloud that seemed to undulate…almost taking on bodily form before wavering back to an amorphous fog. He grunted in frustration as the details eluded him; he could get nothing concrete from it. But what he _could _remember, what he _couldn't _deny, was the undercurrent of menace held within the murky vapour.

He sighed and opened his eyes; he couldn't put it off any longer. He needed to speak with Dean. He turned his head, his eyes widening almost comically…

"DUDE!" he yelled, grabbing the pillow from behind his head and pitching it at his brother.

"Wha..? Huh?" Dean mumbled as he turned his head towards Sam. "Sammy?"

"You couldn't freakin' _wait?" _Sam asked incredulously; looking around for something else to throw into his brother's now grinning face.

"Morning, Sam." grinned Riley.

"Morning." Sam grunted in reply "Please don't sit up. I've seen _too _much already." He swung his legs out of bed "I'm gonna shower and if I hear _one _sound coming from the bedroom, I will kick _both _your asses!" he stood, mumbling under his breath as he stormed to the bathroom, slamming the door on Riley's whistle.

"Is he gonna be pissed all day?" Riley asked as she settled into the crook of Dean's arm..

Dean shrugged "He'll get over it." He ran a hand through his hair, making it go in all directions, his breath pushing out in a rush.

"What is it?"

He shrugged again "I…" he shook his head "Nothin'."

"Uh huh." She turned, resting on an elbow as she studied Dean. His face was in paradox and she frowned slightly. While he had the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes, he _also _looked strangely serene. His forehead was bare of worry lines, but there was also a sense of disquiet held within his green orbs. And although is posture was relaxed, there was hidden tension in his shoulders and after last night, _that _shouldn't have been there.

"Alright, you _know _how annoyingly painful it can be for others if I want to know something…" she started.

Dean chuckled softly "No shit."

"So 'fess up." She waited but he said nothing. She sighed inwardly and started the conversation they'd both been putting off "We need to talk about the dreams and what happened last night." She laughed at Dean's groan "Relax. I'm not gonna go all 'bunny-boiler' on your arse, okay? But Dean…" she sighed _outwardly _this time "As fun as the Impala was…"

"Uh huh." He grinned and piqued and eyebrow at her.

She laughed softly "Look, I'm not a prude by any stretch of the imagination…shut up." she smacked him lightly on the shoulder "But out in the _open? _Where _anyone _could have seen? Shit. I didn't _care, _Dean." she whispered "Hell, I'd have done with a goddamn _audience. _And do _not _get any ideas."

He chuckled "Riley, it was just…"

"Don't even _start _to play it down. You _know _what I'm talking about."

Dean looked over at the bathroom door, the running water softly playing behind it. Sam would be a while yet. He turned to Riley; he knew _exactly _what she was talking about. It was… "It was us but…it wasn't." he said softly.

She nodded "What the _hell's _going on?"

He shrugged "I don't know. I mean, I hadn't really thought about you…"

"Liar." she interrupted with a smile.

"Okay, maybe a _little. _But ever since that dream…" he shifted on the bed "It's like…" he shook his head "I don't know."

"I thought once we...aah…"

"Banged ourselves stupid?" he said with a grin.

She gave a soft laugh "Yeah, that it'd kinda calm down." she glanced out the window nearest her and stared out over the distant mountains, watching the last of what looked like fog, get slowly sucked back up the hills and she shivered involuntarily. "It _hasn't_ and I don't like it."

"Thanks" he deadpanned.

"You know what I mean." she paused "If anything….it's….aaah…intensified." She groaned and flopped down on the bed "This is _crazy. _Dee and I should just pack and leave ……" she stopped and cocked her head, a small smile gracing her lips "I mean…you and I are in this together…"

Dean nodded as he pulled her against him; soft words barely registering in his subconscious "We get this done…" he kissed her softly, running his hands slowly down her back "The better _everything'll _be…"

"Mmmhmm…" she murmured against his lips. "Better…"

"Like it _should _have been…" he whispered.

Neither Dean nor Riley were aware of the words they spoke to each other…and neither were aware of the smile that slid across the sleeping face in the room next to theirs. .

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Sam scowled at Dean and Riley over the top of his menu; their grins only darkening his already dark mood. He dropped his gaze back to the menu, muttering under his breath as he scanned it. He sipped at his coffee as he tried to block the memory of waking to find Riley asleep with his brother in the bed next to his; Dean's ass peeking out from the sheets.

He looked up to the sound of snapping gum "What kin ah git yo' this mo'nin?"

Dean laughed softly as he put a finger to Riley's chin, closing her mouth as she stared at the waitress. "Bacon, eggs, toast, hash browns… aaand some of that Moravian sugar cake." he grinned at Riley "It's topped with cinnamon, right?" he laughed softly, nodding as Riley whispered in his ear.

The young waitress leaned down, giving Dean a view right down her uniform as she grinned at him "It sho'nuff is, honey." She turned her eyes to the Riley and Dee before giving Sam a seductive smile "Whut 'bout the ress of yo'?"

"Just toast for me." said Sam. He looked pointedly at Dean "Kinda lost my appetite."

"Pancakes, here." answered Dee as she handed back her menu, giving the waitress a scowl as she picked up the 'No-Smoking' sign resting on the table "You sure this is right?"

The waitress ignored Dee and looked at Riley, sighing as she snapped her gum again. "Well?"

Riley looked up from the menu "What the hell are 'grits'?"

Riley piqued an eyebrow at the waitresses rolled eyes "Co'n po'ridge wif butter. Yer wan' it on a waffle or whut?"

"_Coon _porridge?" asked Riley incredulously. "Like …_racoons?"_

Sam guffawed as Dean spat coffee out his nose and broke into a coughing fit; Riley smacking him on the back as he hacked up a lung.

The waitress rolled her eyes again "Yer not frum aroun' hyar, are yo'?"

"What gave it away?" said Riley sarcastically.

'Yo' talk funny."

"_I _talk funny." muttered Riley. She looked at the name-tag pinned to the woman's dull-pink uniform "You gonna explain what grits are or what, _Wanda?"_

Wanda sighed as she snapped her gum again "Ah told yo' already. Co'n po'ridge wif butter. Now do yer wan' it on a waffle o' not?"

Riley turned to Dean "I need a translation. Am I gonna be eating a little furry creature on a waffle if I order that? I'm not a vegan or anything, but I gotta draw the line somewhere."

Dean wiped the tears from his eyes as he laughed "No, Riley. It's…." he cracked up again as an image of a fried racoon, a look of shock and surprise on its tiny face as it was slapped onto a waffle, floated into his mind.

"It's like oatmeal, only _corn _based." laughed Sam "Racoon."

"Shut up." Riley grinned as she turned to the waitress "Well, you only live once. I'll have the _grits_ on a waffle, Wanda."

Wanda scribbled on her pad; gave Dean and Sam a winning smile and wiggled her hips as she sauntered back to the kitchen.

"Bet you ten bucks she spits in your food, Dundee." laughed Dee.

"No contest." Riley laughed.

"It'll add to the whole 'southern' experience." said Sam with a grin.

Dee stood "Smoke break."

Sam shook his head in disbelief "You just _had _one."

"And now I'm having another." She pushed past Sam and strode out the door, pulling her leather jacket tight as the chill wind wrapped around her.

"Nicotine withdrawal's a bitch." muttered Riley as she watched her friend pace out front, puffing angrily on her cigarette.

"Riley…" started Sam; he waited for her to turn her eyes to his "Everything alright with Dee?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

Sam shrugged non-committally "She just seems more…tense than the last time we saw her…"

"We?" asked Dean "She seems fine to me." He grinned at Sam "And when _hasn't _she been a little on the tense side, Sammy?" He smiled as he felt Riley's hand slide up his thigh. "My tension is at an all time low."

Sam sighed "Alright, subject change before I lose my appetite completely. Do you have any plans now that you're back, Riley?"

She shrugged "Not really. Gotta pick up the Landy and Ja...Dad's truck. They're about four hours from here. And I need to figure out what to do with the truck and I gotta sort through the weapons and such…find a buyer for what I don't want…all that kinda crap." She sighed "Should be fun."

"We know someone that might be able to help with that." said Dean with a grin "Road trip."

"Sounds like a plan," said Sam with a smile. This would work out perfectly. He needed someone to bounce his thoughts off right now, and it looked like Dean wasn't going to be all too receptive to them; he _clearly _had other things on his mind righ now. Sam turned his eyes to the front of the diner, a frown creasing his brow as he watched Dee pace.

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Dee sucked back another lungful of nicotine, relishing the feel of the smoke as it circled her lungs. She didn't give a shit _what _all the do-gooders and so-called health professionals said; nothing was better than the calming caress of durry. And right now she _needed _to be calm.

She felt the welling pit of anger starting to simmer inside her; an anger she wanted to direct at someone…_anyone. _She began to pace, puffing angrily on the cigarette, trying to get the sweet smoke into her lungs faster. Calm. She _needed _to calm down, to get control of the seething pit of hate that was starting to take control of her. She crushed the finished cigarette under her boot and lit another, unclenching her jaw as she drew the smoke in deep.

She stopped her pacing as a nightmarish image flashed almost imperceptibly through her mind. She frowned; what the _hell _was that? She closed her eyes, trying to call the image back, the cigarette now completely forgotten as it dangled from her fingertips.

_A face filled with fear. A hand covering…no…__**silencing, **__what could only be a scream. Terror filled eyes that stared at something just out of view. The arc of something shiny. A deep, resonant chuckle. Lifeless brown eyes._

Dee's eyes snapped open at a burning sting to her fingertips. She dropped the burned-out cigarette to the ground; the frown on her forehead deepening to a scowl. Those eyes had seemed familiar…but…she couldn't place them. That bothered her. She _never _forgot a face and she had a feeling this was something she needed to remember.

She turned to a knock at the window; ignoring her grim visage mirrored in the glass. The darting of her eyes and the almost death-like appearance of her skin. A distorted mirror image of herself. She focussed and saw Riley gesturing to her and mouthing a string of obscenities that ended with the word 'pancakes'. Dee gave her a short smile, punctuating it with a raised finger as she headed back inside.

The strange vision now completely forgotten.

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After arguing with Riley and Dean for almost fifteen minutes; Sam finally seated himself in the front seat of the Impala next to his brother; ignoring the mumbled curses of the both of them.

"You know, I get _carsick _if I sit in the back." Riley said as she settled herself behind Sam.

"Sure you do." Sam replied, turning in his seat as Dean gunned the engine and roared out of the motel parking lot. "I _don't _sit in back."

"You understand that _technically, _the Impala belongs to me." countered Riley "Dean promised her to me when we were in Vermont…"

"Here she goes…" Dean muttered.

"That's right, here I go. And seriously, would you _want _to be sitting in front of me after…" she grinned "I's hads me some grits?"

"You are more disgusting than Dean." Sam muttered, trying to hide his smile as he turned in his seat.

"Is that even at all possible?" Dee asked as she took her cigarette packet from her jacket.

Dean looked at Dee in the rearview "No smoking in the car. One stray ember and the upholstery is screwed."

"The Impala? Screwed?" laughed Riley.

Dean grinned at Riley "Now _there's…" _

Sam sat up suddenly in his seat "Hey…" he pointed "Pull over, Dean."

Dean followed Sam's pointed finger to the array of police cars with flashing lights and the coroner's van that filled the parking lot of the bar they'd visited last night. "Sammy, it was a dive…"

"Just _pull over." _Sam insisted.

"Oh, come on, Sam," said Dee with a roll of her eyes "It was probably just a couple of tosser's getting into it over some bad boot-scootin' moves."

"Dean…"

Dean sighed and eased the Impala to a stop. Sam was already rummaging through the fake I.D.'s, looking for the one he wanted. He grabbed two, shoving one at Dean as he got out of the car. "Stay here." he ordered Riley and Dee.

"I'm getting out for a _smoke, _Winchester. You got a problem with that?" angered Dee as she pushed herself past Dean. The anger was starting to rise again, only _this _time it was tempered with apprehension.

"Just…" Sam shook his head as Dee leaned back against the Impala, her cigarette already lit. "We'll be back in a minute." Sam told Riley as she exited the car.

"Go play cop." said Riley with a smile as she eyed the passenger seat.

Sam stopped himself from throwing his hands in the air as he followed Dean towards the yellow crime scene tape. They headed towards the most jittery of cops that lined the tape and flashed their 'FBI' badges as they slipped under it and passed the nodding cop.

They walked purposefully towards the bar, slipping past another cop as they headed inside. The place was _crawling _with police; uniformed and plain-clothed. But _all _wore the same nervous expression on their faces. Sam headed towards two men speaking in hushed whispers on the far side of the bar. He glanced quickly at the table they'd occupied last night as the two men turned to him.

Sam flipped his badge open and closed quickly "Special Agent Addison." he said in a short, clipped voice; he motioned to Dean "Special Agent Hayes. Fill us in."

The men hesitated briefly, before the elder of the two asked quietly "FBI? How the hell'd yo' get here so fast?"

Sam was thrown briefly by the cops response; but Dean stepped in "We ask the questions…"

"Detective Wilson." he shook their hands and glanced around the bar before returning his attention to Dean and Sam "I never seen nothin' like it. Been on the force for twenty-seven years…" he shook his head.

"That's why we're here. Now if you could tell us what you know…" started Sam.

The man nodded "Gina Kingston, 25." He glanced towards the women's bathroom "Cleaner found 'er this mo'nin around 8.30. Called us…we called the coroner…then you lot."

Dean gave a cursory nod "Cause of death?"

Detective Wilson sighed "Don't rightly know." He scratched at his head "She was…pinned to the bathroom wall with the biggest damn knife I've _ever _seen."

"_One _knife?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Ayuh. Right through the neck…"

"And you don't think _that's _what killed her?" Dean asked with a smirk.

Detective Wilson narrowed his eyes at the young, scruffily dressed man in front of him "No. I don't," he replied testily "There weren't no _blood."_ He called to a man who was coming out of the women's bathroom. "Charlie!"

Dean and Sam stared at a man who was _easily _in his eighties; his short white hair cut military short and his dark blue eyes shone with intelligence that was visible even from this distance. He walked with a slight limp and they noticed the palsy in his left hand.

"Charlie, tell the _FBI _what you told me."

The old man appraised Dean and Sam quickly before giving them a small nod "Exsanguination. She was bled out before she was pinned to the wall. No sign of a struggle but no trace of blood neither."

"So she was killed somewhere else and dumped here." said Dean.

Charlie shook his head "She was killed here alright."

"If there's no blood, no blood _trail, _how can you be sure?" Sam asked.

"_Because…" _started Charlie "She's been dead 'bout 9 hours and last time I saw her, she was dancing up a storm around midnight." He looked at both Dean and Sam "Not long before you two left here with them girls."

Dean raised an eyebrow "Out a little late, old timer?"

Charlie laughed softly "You get to be my age, son? Sleep don't come easy." He turned serious "She never left here last night. She was killed here, no doubt. Where the blood is?" he shrugged "That's not my job." He turned as the body-bag was moved out of the bathroom and placed on a gurney. "Now if you'll 'scuse me. I got work to do." He nodded at Dean and Sam and turned to Detective Wilson "Bill, I'll break the news to her parents."

"Thanks, Charlie."

The four men watched silently as Gina Kingston's body was wheeled past them. Charlie turned back "Just one more thing…" he started as he stared at Dean and Sam "Whoever killed her. They _knew _what they were doing. Not just the exsanguination but the placement of the dagger that held her to the wall. Not many people would now how to hold a body off the floor with one blade As bad as it sounds, that's a skill.."

Sam walked over to Charlie "May I?" he asked and Charlie unzipped the bag; the slow clicking of the zipper almost deafening in the cold silence of the bar.

Sam stared at the waxen face of Gina Kingston. He frowned; she seemed vaguely familiar but she could have been one of the many faces his eyes had danced across when he was scanning the bar last night. But it wasn't her face that held his attention; it was the terror that still remained in her lifeless brown eyes. Even in death, the fear was clearly evident. But it wasn't just fear…it was pure, unmitigated terror. He knew it when he saw it.

"Whatever killed her…scared the daylights out of the poor child." Charlie whispered.

"_What_ever?" asked Sam just as quietly.

Charlie nodded "No person can hold that much terror over another." He zipped up the bag and motioned to the attendants; following them solemnly out the door.

Sam turned as Dean sidled up to him "Whatever it was, Dean. It scared the crap outta her."

"Did a quick sweep of the bathroom." Dean whispered "Like the old dude said, clean as a whistle. EMF quite as a mouse too. This ain't one for us, Sammy." He herded his brother out the door "And the sooner we get out of here the better. The _real _Feds are on their way remember?"

Sam nodded distractedly as he watched Gina's body loaded into the coroner's van. Although he didn't quite agree with Dean's assessment of it, he knew they had to get away from the crime scene. Dean was right, the last thing they needed was the _real _Feds on their asses...again.

He looked towards the Impala and groaned as he saw Riley lounging in the passenger seat, waving at him with a grin plastered to her face. "Dean…"

Dean grinned at his brother and clapped him on the shoulder "Looks like you lost your seat, Sammy."

"You know you can't…aaah, forget it." He walked round to the drivers side of the car when he noticed Riley had locked the passenger door "Ready, Dee?"

Dee nodded and stubbed out her cigarette. "Well? Anything interesting?"

"Interesting? Yeah, Something for us? No." said Dean. "In. We gotta get the hell outta Dodge. The Feds are a'comin'."

Dee slipped into the Impala, sliding behind Riley as Sam sat down next to her. "So, Winchester. Much ado about nothing, huh?"

Sam turned to Dee "Nothing? A girl was _murdered _in there, Dee!"

"Easy, now." Said Dee placatingly "Riley, hand the boy a joint."

"I don't _want _a joint, Dee." He turned to her "You went to the bathroom in the bar last night. You see anyone in there?"

Dee shook her head "Nope. Not a soul. All on my lonesome, which is just the way I like it when I need to pee."

"Thanks for the imagery." Dean muttered as the Impala screeched back onto the highway.

"You got that joint or what, Dundee?" Dee asked with exasperation.

"No smoking of _any _kind in my car." Dean reiterated as he sped past the coroner's van.

"_My _car." said Riley with a grin. "Do we _have _to go over this _again, _Dean?"

Sam ignored the flirting that was disguised as bickering from the front seat; looking past Dee to the coroner's van, He hid a frown as he noticed Dee stopped her head from turning to look at the van.

He barely caught what he thought sounded like Latin, whisper from her lips.

_**To be continued…**_


	5. Dream Weaver

(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural related; the following story and the characters of Riley and Dee belong to me)

* * *

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Five.**

_She sifted the dirt between her toes; watching, transfixed, as the granules sprinkled like dark raindrops, to the ground. It had been a long time since she'd felt the earth beneath her feet…but then, it had also been a long time since she'd been summoned. _

_Her disciples were long gone; her prestige, her __**eminence**__, fading along with them. Left in the catacombs of time; forgotten and abandoned to timeless myth. But time was the one thing she had. That, and the knowledge that she __**would**__ be remembered; remembered and **summoned**___

_She had foreseen the events in Vermont…the ones that would precede those in Nevada; and it had given rise to promise - not to hope; she had no use for such trivial emotions - and it had played out just as she'd foreknown. _

_In that moment, when Lilith had been destroyed; when the dead were amongst the living and the sanctified had breached the heavens; her power had been rekindled. The interweaving of death, destruction and divine; the promises made from love, the pacts made from fear, and the ringing vows of vengeance, had been all she'd needed to bring about her dawn._

_And one had been awakened. A keeper of the creed. One whose life was of secrecy and devotion. One who was receptive to the sensitivity of her emergence. One with the craft to summon._

_She turned blazing eyes to her servant; his devout commitment to her every whim, evident as he knelt, unmoving; as he had for the last twenty-four hours. His silence, his refusal to let his eyes stray from her form, brought a cold smile to cold lips._

_He had been the baton in the orchestration of her symphony. The one who had aided in the direction of the notes that were now being played in the minds of two; two that had stood between her and her true quarry. __The manipulation of the music that now played within their minds, had been easier a task than she had anticipated. The memories, the dreams, the fantasies had already been there; it was a domain she knew well…it was __**her **__domain. And they were easy puppets; the strings that manoeuvred them, woven from the voices of those that were passed; voices that the __**puppets **__longed to hear._

_But all of this was just a prequel to the main show; the star of the play was still being primed. Gentle asides into a willing ear, a pliant mind; was all that was needed. Subtlety was at play here; a quiet hush that whispered through the yearning fractures of a welcoming mind. _

_But subtlety would soon give way. She didn't do things by halves; she would savour every moment of the manipulation; relish the taste of the slow destruction of the minds she now held within the palm of her hand. This wasn't a random selection of prey; the woman __**belonged **__to her. A pact had been made; one that they believed no longer stood; but one that she would see through to her own ends. She would rebuild her disciples and she would begin with the woman. _

_The other three? She would use the woman that had killed Lilith as the sacrifice to bring her quarry, her first disciple, truly to the fold. The murder of her friend would be the final act that would secure the mind to utter obedience. The men? They would pay for their crimes committed against the darkness. She would gently lead them; lead them like lambs to the slaughter._

_Her eyes travelled over the scoured man in front of her. "You have what I requested?" she purred._

_The man's lips ran with blood as his smile opened almost healed wounds; his eyes alight with manic subservience. "I am your obedient servant," he replied; reaching behind him and taking the satchel that contained the ingredients she needed. He prostrated himself at her feet as he raised the bag to her; her fingers brushing tantalisingly against his._

"_The sacrifice?"_

"_Outside waiting, mistress."_

"_Bring him," she ordered._

_He scuttled backwards; keeping his head bowed as he exited the labyrinth of tunnels; leaving a trail of blood in his wake. He stepped into the frigid chill of the late afternoon; dusk was slowly creeping over the land and bringing with it the winter winds and the shadows; the shadows that brought a sense of calm to him. The shadows in which he lived._

_He bent and picked up the bound, unconscious man; throwing him easily over his shoulder as he returned to the caves; following his crimson trail of breadcrumbs back to his mistress. He shook with anticipation of the offering; the depravity in which his deity lived, would be shared with him. Again._

_He dropped the man to ground; untying his wrists and ankles before driving spikes through the joints. The man's screams reverberating deliciously around the dank cave. He looked up at his queen; his ragged breathing matching hers as she stepped forward._

_She raised her arm slowly; the glint of her sharpened hand reflected in the terror-filled eyes of her sacrifice. A smile of pure evil rested languidly on her lips; "Lets begin."_

_His screams as her hand sliced into him, unleashing another decayed deliverance…_

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_Memories…dreams…fantasies…visions..._

All of these were tumbled together in a swirling jumble of images and sounds, smells and touch…_taste;_ that held him captive. He was a willing prisoner; a model inmate with no desire to leave his cell. He could eat, sleep, _live_ this montage that assaulted his every sense; it would sustain him. He took a deep breath, a smile touching his now moist lips as her scent filled his nostrils; filled _him._

His eyes flicked to the rear-view; his smile growing as he saw her behind the wheel of her father's truck; one hand pushing her dark curls from her face as her other beat a rhythm on the steering wheel, her eyes focussed not on the road in front of her, but on him…

_Sight…sound…smell…touch…taste…_

Those five words spun out of control; each bringing with it a flash of memory, a wistful dream, a desire filled fantasy…a promise of what was to come. She was held in favourable slavery; offering her arms, unbidden, for the shackles; a welcoming smile on her lips as the storm of sensations brewed in and around her.

She ran a hand through her hair, her fingers tightening slightly as his intoxicating scent washed over her; her hand beating against the steering wheel as she felt the memory of his lips whispering against her throat. She looked into the car travelling in front of her; seeing his eyes not on the road ahead of him, but on her…

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Sam sat in silence as he watched his brother. At first, they had been surreptitious glances, hidden within another action; but now? Now, he knew his brother was completely unaware of him. Dean's gaze would flick to the road in front of him just long enough to keep the Impala on the blacktop; then it was back to the rear-view…to Riley.

He'd watched his brother shift uncomfortably at times, lick at his lips; his eyes never straying far from the mirror that was starting to become the focus of _all _his attention.

"Dean."

No response.

"Dean," Sam said a little louder.

Still nothing.

"Dean. I'm giving up hunting and opening a dog-grooming salon. It's been a life-long dream of mine to primp the little critters and put bows in their fur."

Sam watched as his brother dragged his eyes from the rearview and slowly turned his head to him, "You say something, Sammy?"

"Nothin', dude." He sighed, inwardly as he saw Dean's eyes return to the mirror. "We need gas, Dean. Take the next turn-off."

Dean smiled; "Yeah, we could use a break." He pushed his foot down on the accelerator, the Impala leaping forward.

Sam turned and watched as the truck behind them kept a steady pace; of course it did. Riley was driving. He turned back and slumped in his seat; his brow furrowing as he saw his brother's fingers tighten on the steering wheel.

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Dee was in a world of hurt. Shrouded by an aching emptiness, drowning in a black pit of despair, she pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and beat her hands happily on the steering wheel as she hummed along with Zeppelin's _'Whole Lotta Love'. _

She was unaware of the paradox; the outer cheerfulness masking the inner turmoil, was lived in blissful ignorance. She'd grown accustomed to the constant contradiction; she wore it well. She'd settled into it like she'd settled back into her beloved Landy; the leather seat moulding to her familiar frame as the secretive sighs moulded her mind. Everything fit perfectly.

She grabbed her packet of smokes from the dash and flicked out one of the joints she kept there. She pulled the dooby out with her teeth and had the Zippo in her hand, lighting it with a practiced flick of her wrist. She breathed in deep, enjoying the swelling of her lungs as they filled. She expelled it almost sadly, the swirling smoke drifting through the cab in lazy circles.

A warm smile fell onto her lips as his face emerged through the wispy haze; a diaphanous hand sending a shiver through her as it caressed her thigh. She nodded absentmindedly as his words whispered into her; her continued humming, deafening her to the murmurs that pushed into her psyche.

She frowned as the song came to an end; turning her head to the passenger seat and wondering why she thought someone had been sitting there. She laughed to herself; Riley was in the truck in _front _of her, not riding shotgun. She hit the button releasing the window, and tossed the joint to the wind; _'better cut back on the ganja' _she thought with a wry laugh; she was sure she could hear Riley's mum's scream from here.

She pushed her foot down on the accelerator as Riley's truck lurched forward. Good. Looked like they were pulling over; she needed to stretch her legs and get some food into her. And she needed to speak with Sam about Riley…there was something not quite right there…

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Sam pushed his tall frame from the car, the simultaneous slamming of the Impala doors, sounding loudly round the almost empty parking lot of the roadside diner. He stretched his tired body, his groan turning to laugh as he saw Riley exit her truck, trying to rub some feeling into her ass. He knew how that felt; six hours on the road had made _his _ass numb as well.

He shook his head with another laugh as Dee stepped from the Landy next to him; the smell of pot following her out of the truck. "You got the munchies?" he grinned.

"Don't start with me Winchester," said Dee with a smile, "I'm so damn hungry I could eat a steak the size of your head." She grinned "And that's a bloody big steak."

"Tell me why we're friends again?" he laughed.

Dee rolled her eyes as she pointed, "'Cause we have a mutual aversion to _that."_

Sam turned, another groan escaping him as he saw Dean pushed against Riley's truck; and it looked like his brother had taken over the job of getting the feeling back into Riley's ass. He turned back quickly, "Lets eat before I lose my appetite again."

He followed Dee towards the diner, yelling "We'll meet you inside!" over his shoulder. He was pretty sure neither of them heard.

The bell tinkled overhead as Dee pushed into the diner; the welcoming smells that greeted both of them, making their mouths water. There were maybe ten people littered about the worn red-leather booths; the quiet hum of conversation, a calming backdrop to the sizzle of cooking meat and the smell of strong coffee.

They moved to a booth near the back; the sharp echo of their boots on the shiny, black and white chequered linoleum, turning all heads to them. They slid into the booth opposite each other, picking up menus and scanning them as the waitress came over. They ordered coffee and the 'house special', both of them leaning back against the soft leather as they appraised the other.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

Dee turned her Zippo end over end as she studied Sam; "Ask you something?"

He nodded at her; both of them remaining silent as the waitress returned with their coffees. Neither of them noticing the odd stares they received from her, or her haste to get away from them.

"Well?" Sam asked as he took a sip of his coffee, sighing as the hot liquid burned down his throat.

Dee's eyes flicked towards the parking lot; Dean and Riley were still at it. She leaned forward in her seat, her hands going around her coffee cup. "This stays between you and me, Sam. Promise me."

Sam sighed again; "Dee, we've had _how _many discussions about the 'keeping of secrets'? You _know _it comes back to bite us on the ass."

"This is different," she whispered; and her eyes flicked to the parking lot again.

Sam followed her gaze before turning back to Dee; he'd seen the worry in her eyes when she'd looked at Dean and Riley. "I'll make you a deal, you tell me what's worrying you and if it's something I _don't _think will come back and bite us, I'll keep it to myself."

Dee nodded slowly; it was the best she was gonna get from Sam, and once he heard her concerns, she was sure he'd keep it quiet. "Fair enough." She took a deep breath, "I'm worried about Riley. There's something…just not ...sitting right with her…."

"You don't mean the spectacle that's going on outside, do you?" Sam asked in a hushed tone.

Dee shook her head; "I noticed it not long after we arrived in Australia. At first, I thought it was something to do with Jack being dead and returning home; you know, memories and all that," she whispered as Sam nodded. "Memories can be powerful things, Sam, so I just let it go…at first. But then she started disappearing for hours at a time, saying she wanted 'alone time' – fair enough, I thought," she paused. "But I followed her one time, Sam. She…she was talking to herself…well, it was like she was talking to someone _else, _like she was having a conversation, but it was one way." She looked Sam in the eye, "I'm worried. She…" she faltered, "She's my…family, Sam."

Sam saw how uncomfortable making that admission to him had been for Dee; she wasn't one that shared her feelings, even with people she was close to; and apart from Riley, he knew he and Dean were the closest things to friends she had. "You tried talking to her?"

"And say what? 'Hey, luv. Just saw you having a chat with an imaginary friend, wanna bare your soul all Oprah-like to me?'" she laughed quietly, "Me and Riley don't work like that, Sam."

Sam had to laugh, the idea of Dee and Riley sitting down and having a deep and meaningful conversation about their feelings was more than a little disturbing, If they did that, he'd be breaking out the Latin and doing a full-on exorcism. "How the hell _do _you two work?"

Dee smiled; "It's an enigma, wrapped up in a mystery and tied nicely with a big, fat joint…..or something like that." The smile slowly fell from her lips, "Sam, I got less than a month, but I don't care about that, something's up with Riley and I gotta figure it out. I…I think that something may have gone wrong with the Lilith kill," she held up her hand to stop him, "I know. Lilith is dead, there's no doubt on that score, but Sam, we didn't _see _everything. There was that moment, when the light obscured _everything, _we don't know what happened. We could've missed something."

Sam sat forward in his seat; "Dee, apart from all the …banging, Riley seems the same…"

"Bullshit." Dee intoned. She pointed to the parking lot, "_That_ is not the Riley I know. There's something _off _about her. I _know _it. And don't you tell me you don't see it, either. I've seen you watching her and Dean, you feel it too. Dean might be fine, hell, he'll bang himself into unconsciousness if left to his own devices…but Riley's having some kind of effect on him…something that wasn't there before."

Sam stared incredulously at Dee, "You think she's a…succubus?" He laughed, "Dee, you _know _it doesn't work that way."

"I'm not bloody well saying she's a _succubus, _you twat! I'm saying she's …Christ, I don't know what I'm damn well saying! But she's doing something to your brother and it's not …_right."_ She looked up as she heard the bell twinkle above the door; Riley and Dean had finally made their way inside. She looked at Sam; "Just think about it, Sam," she said quickly, "And _watch _her. You'll see I'm right."

Dean and Riley stood at the booth, looking between Sam and Dee; Dean's hand resting almost possessively on the back of Riley's neck.

"Dude, move your ass," grinned Dean. "I've been sitting next to you for six goddamn hours, we need some time apart."

Dee rolled her eyes; "Here, you horny bastards," she said as she slid from the booth. "I gotta wash up, anyway." She gave Sam one last stare; a stare that read _'watch',_ before making her way to the bathroom.

She pushed through the door, her shoulders slumping slightly as it swung shut quietly behind her. She went the sinks and turned on the cold water, splashing it over her face in an attempt to wash the haziness from her. She rested her hands on either side of the basin, her head hung as she watched droplets fall in almost slow-motion from her face. She took a shuddering breath, her fingers tightening painfully on the porcelain as she felt the beginnings of another headache.

She slowly raised her head as she felt a gentle hand on her back; she smiled past the reflection in the mirror; smiled into his eyes as he leant forward and whispered into her ear. She'd done well. She'd listened to him and everything was going to be alright. She felt the headache begin to abate and she closed her eyes, relishing his soft touch and calming reassurances.

She straightened; running damp hands through her hair as she nodded to herself. That was better; all she'd needed was a splash of water on her face to feel somewhat human again. Now a belly full of food and some more coffee and she'd be good to go. Hopefully, Riley and Dean would have finished with their sex-capades and managed to make their way into the diner. If not, she smiled to herself, she'd make Sam drag their horny arses inside. She frowned slightly...no; she shook her head, they were still outside, she was _sure _of it.

She turned, smiling brightly at the waitress that entered the bathroom, "Well this _is _service! Coming all the way in here to tell me my foods arrived? Ta, you're a luv."

The waitress stepped aside as the woman brushed past her; stifling a shiver of fear that she didn't understand….didn't _want _to understand. She locked the door to the bathroom and went to the cubicle; all she wanted to do was to pee and finish her shift. Finish her shift so she could be away from the woman that, for some reason, scared the absolute _crap _out of her.

She opened the door to the cubicle and let out a squeak of fear as a hand clamped over her mouth and she looked into insane eyes...

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Dee slid into the booth next to Sam; not surprised that Riley and Dean had taken her spot while she was in the bathroom. She dropped her gaze and hungrily eyed the plate of food in front of her before turning to Sam and grinning, "Well, lookey here, Winchester. It _is _the size of your head."

Sam gave Dee the finger, ignoring the laughter of the three as he chewed happily on his steak. The food tasted as good as it smelled and he wasn't going to have it ruined by Dee's smart ass remarks. He looked up and saw Riley shovelling food into her mouth almost as fast as Dean was.

"_Breathe, _Riley," he laughed.

"Can't. Eating." Riley replied as she pushed another fork full of steak into her mouth.

Sam turned to Dee with a questioning look.

"I know, it's truly disgusting," said Dee; laughing as Riley kicked her under the table.

"Christ, they're freakin' _made _for each other…and that's more disturbing a thought than I …thought…or something like that."

"Shut up and eat, Sammy. I wanna be back on the road as soon as," said Dean through a mouthful of food.

"Riley," started Sam, waiting for her to raise her eyes to his before he continued, "You mind if I ride with you the rest of the way? I need some more meaningful conversation."

"In the room, dude," said Dean sarcastically.

"Your point?" grinned Sam. "Ow! Don't kick me."

Dean grinned at his brother; "Why don't you drive Riley's truck and she can…"

"No!" said Sam and Dee in unison.

"Bloody hell, if you two are in the same car, we'll _never _get where we're going."

Dean grinned at Dee and piqued and eyebrow; "You know, I can drive and…"

"Stop. Just _stop," _interrupted Sam with exasperation. "We get it. And we really don't _want _to, believe me."

"Ain't that the truth," muttered Dee with a smile as she picked up her coffee.

"Riley?"

"Sure, Sam. Why not. But there are rules," said Riley seriously.

Sam hung his head, "Of course there are."

"_I _control the music, not you and no complaining either." She held up a hand as he opened his mouth, "_And, _there will be at least _one _joint smoked on the way," she grinned. "I'm hanging to see you stoned."

"You two are a couple of pot-heads," said Sam with a shake of his head.

"Deal?"

Sam sighed, "Deal."

"Atta boy!" said Riley with a grin; not noticing the sly smile that spread across Dee's lips as she sipped at her coffee.

"Alright, then," said Dean as he finished the last of his food and leaned back in his seat, an arm going around Riley's shoulder as he burped loudly. "Lets grab supplies and head out."

They rose, ordered coffee and cake for the rest of their journey and headed back to their cars. Sam went to the Impala and grabbed his jacket; he looked at his brother, "Try and keep your eyes on the road, dude."

Dean rested his arm on the top of the Impala, "Just keep _your _eyes and your _hands _to yourself, Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother; "Yeah, okay, Dean, whatever you say," he laughed.

"I'm serious, Sammy." He gave his brother a hard look; "Don't be touching what's mine, understand?"

Sam frowned; "Aaah, yeah, sure, dude." He closed the Impala's door, "You alright?"

Dean turned from him, grinning as Riley came over and pulled his lips to hers; "Drive fast," she whispered.

"Count on it," he kissed her, slapping her ass as she went to her truck. He looked at Sam; "I'm great, Sammy." He smacked the top of the Impala, "Let's hit the road." He watched as Sam joined Riley in the truck before sliding into the Impala; he gunned the engine, the sound of his baby growling to life, was joined by that of the Riley's truck and the Landy. He smiled as they roared out of the parking lot and onto the blacktop towards their next destination.

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Sam tapped his fingers on his knee in time with the music as he watched the road ahead of him. They'd been on the road for an hour; and conversation between him and Riley had been constant but fragmented. Like Dean, Riley was pre-occupied with the car in front of her…well, not so much the car but the driver; he'd had to re-ask questions a number of times, to get a response from her. Yeah, it was worrying. Maybe Dee was onto something. He glanced over as Riley turned to him.

"Glovebox," she ordered.

"Huh?"

She rolled her eyes; "Open the _glovebox,_ Sam."

He popped the button; "And what am I looking for?" he asked as he rifled through a mass of parking and speeding tickets that listed different number-plates.

"Small metal box."

He found it at the back, hidden under pile of maps. He took it out and opened it, groaning. "You were serious?"

She grinned at him; "We made a deal. Light her up," she tossed him a lighter.

"Riley…"

"You're not piking on me, are you Sam?" she grinned.

"I'm not sure what that means…" he started as he lit the joint, "But I'm guessing no."

"That's the spirit. Now pass."

He passed the joint over; "You and Dee are such a bad influence," he laughed as she did.

"Cheers!"

"I swear, between you two and Dean, I don't stand a damn chance."

Riley passed the joint back; "You only got one life, Sam. Live it to the utmost, I say."

"You mean life is short."

"Do I?" She paused; "Yeah, I guess I do." She turned to him, a smile sneaking over her lips.

"Oh, god…what?"

"I'm just wondering why you haven't tried to hit on Dee?"

"Aaah, because life isn't just one big orgy...and she kinda scares the crap outta me," he replied with a laugh.

"Sam, she scares the crap outta everyone. That's part of her…charm. Now stop hogging the joint."

"Sorry," he laughed. "Guess, peer pressure really _does _exit…exsit…ex_ist." _He grinned; "Got it."

She laughed at the goofy grin that was plastered on Sam's face; "You're a trip, Sam."

"Shhh, don't tell anyone," he said conspiratorially.

"Oh, your secrets safe with me, Winchester." She grinned, "No one'd believe me anyway."

Sam leaned against the window and looked at her; "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"The dreams you had when you were little, the ones about Lilith," he started and she nodded. "Now that she's dead…and boy is she," he laughed, "You don't…you haven't been having any?"

"Dreams about Lilith?" she shook her head, "Not a one. Why?" she asked.

He frowned as her fingers went to the amulet she wore around her neck; "Just wondering is all…you know, making sure…you're alright."

"Awww, you care, " she grinned into his grinning face, the two of them bursting into laughter.

"You're an idiot," laughed Sam.

Riley gasped, "Who told!" She cracked up as Sam snorted his laughter; the two of them unable to stifle it as they caught each other's eye again and again.

"Stop it, stop it…" Sam pleaded through his laughter. "Now _I'm _laughing like an idiot."

"Like I said, Sam. Your secrets safe with me."

He smacked her upside the head; "Why do I like you?"

"'Cause I'm adorable and no matter how hard you try and shake me, you just cant get rid of me. Well that, and I feed you ganja against your will."

"Yeah, you're a dream friend," he laughed.

"Dreams, huh?"

"Dreams…" said Sam; watching as Riley slowly nodded her head.

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Dean watched Riley and Sam through the rearview, his hands tightening on the steering wheel as he saw the two of them laughing and mucking around. He didn't like it. Didn't like it at all. Sam was taking Riley's focus off him. What the _hell _was his brother trying to do? He'd _explained _to Sam what the deal was and his brother hadn't listened…again.

He pushed his foot to the floor, the Impala leaping forward; he smiled as he saw Riley's truck keep pace with him; good. Her focus was back on him; where it should be. He'd speak to Sam when they arrived; it was time his brother really understood what he'd meant.

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Riley followed the Impala slowly through the minefield of broken and discarded cars and trucks; the Landy close on her tail. She saw lights on in old house in the distance; looked like that was where they were headed.

She finally pulled up next to the Impala; her and Sam and exiting as Dean did; the Landy pulling up next to her. She turned to Dean; as he came over to her; his arm snaking around her waist and pulling her to him.

Sam turned to Dee and took a step towards her; "We need to talk," he whispered; nodding as she did. He turned as the door opened, a smile breaking free of him.

Dean heard the door open and broke the kiss, smiling at the man that came out; shotgun resting over his shoulder.

"Boys…" started the man as he took in the two newcomers.

"Bobby," grinned Dean. "Got some people we'd like you to meet."

Bobby nodded slowly; "Been expectin' you."

"You have?" asked Sam.

Bobby nodded; "Get your asses inside," he said as he eyes went between the four of them before finally resting on Riley; "I know who you are…"

_**To be continued…**_


	6. Webs

(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural related; the following story and the characters of Riley and Dee belong to me)

* * *

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Six.**

Virginia Ackerman sat on the porch swing, a joint resting precariously between her fingers as she rocked back and forth. The sun was sitting high in the sky, a blazing orb that beat relentlessly down on the scorched earth. The cicadas were the only creatures that dared brave the Australian swelter; their loud, lazy buzz a welcoming din to the silence that now surrounded her home.

There was no breeze today, no offer of release to the stifling heat; it sat like a hot and heavy blanket over the land. Beads of sweat trickled languidly down her forehead as her bare feet slid across the dusty wood, leaving clean trails in their wake. Her eyes drifted over her property; the dope orchard hidden within a mass of Waratah and Wattle bushes; the three, almost dead fruit trees near the gate; the barely travelled, dirt track that led to her house…and finally, to the large Eucalypt tree that held the tyre swing.

Her eyes focussed on the tyre; the black rubber shimmered around the edges as the heat rose from the foot-scoured dirt beneath, trying to claim the lifeless swing as its own. A small chuckle escaped Ginny's lips; nothing could claim that swing, it was Cin's, no one else's. Her daughter had staked _her _claim on that swing when she'd dragged it up from the road outside their property. She smiled at the memory; seeing her daughter in her minds eye, huffing and puffing as her tiny arms strained against the weight of the tyre, not realising it was filling with dirt with every small drag she made.

She remembered walking down the track to where Cin was sitting on the tyre trying to catch her breath; she'd been just shy of her fourth birthday and Ginny had been amazed that she'd managed to drag the tyre half-way up the track. She'd sat down next to her little girl and taken her hands in hers, gently brushing the dirt from her blisters.

She'd asked her why she'd dragged the tyre home, when, obviously, it had hurt her to do so. Cin had looked up at her, her face streaked with dirt, but with determination and purpose burning in her large green eyes…a look she remembered from someone long ago …and she'd explained to her mother that she'd _needed _the tyre to make a swing.

"_Why?" _she'd asked.

Her daughter had looked at her as if was the most ridiculous question she'd ever been asked.

"_So when daddy comes, he can __**push**__ me," _Cin had replied.

She'd tried to explain to Cinnamon that her father lived very far away and he _wasn't _coming; the explanation she given her a thousand times before; but Cin had just shaken her head. _'You see', _she'd stated as she stood, staring at her mother until she, too, rose; her tiny hands going to the black rubber as she began to pull at the tyre again.

Ginny had sighed inwardly, bent down and picked it up, Cin directing her to _exactly _where she wanted it. It had taken most of the day to hang the damn thing, but the look on her daughter's face once it was done, had been worth every splinter and blister she'd received. She knew she wasn't a good mum, that Cin often needed for things; but it was times like these, seeing the pure _joy _in that little face, the unconditional love shining from eyes that were so like her father's; that she knew she'd done the right thing by keeping her, keeping her and running.

But she hadn't run far enough. Cin had been right. Jack had arrived three weeks later. She didn't know how he'd managed to find them, and all he would say was that he just _had. _She'd tried to lie to him, to tell him that Cin wasn't his, but he'd seen through it. He'd always been able to see through her lies…well, all but one of them.

She sucked back on the joint as her thoughts stayed on her daughter; she _knew _Cinnamon was a hunter, had known the moment Jack had arrived that her daughter was destined to follow in her father's footsteps. She'd played dumb, of course. Kept up the charade of not knowing what either of them did, it was easier, safer. The fact that she was never without a joint in her hand, helped with that illusion; Virginia Ackerson was always too stoned to know what was going on around her. She let out another laugh; this one tinged with bitterness. If only they'd realised that the ganja didn't effect her; it was just another prop in the production she now called her life.

But now Jack was dead. The one person she _knew _would protect Cin with his life was gone. Her daughter was without protection …and _she _was at a crossroads. She tossed the joint into the ashtray with disgust and picked up the box that sat next to her. She opened it, taking out the old photos of Cinnamon with Jack; the two of them _always _smiling. There weren't that many of her and Cin, but the few she had, and the few she had of her and Jack; she treasured.

She thought back to the last conversation she'd had with her daughter. She'd woken to find Cin's and Dee's bags packed and on the porch …and her stomach had dropped. She'd tried to hide the fear that had coursed through her at the sight of the luggage, lighting a joint to try and cover her shaking hands. She'd asked Dee to step outside so she could speak with Cin alone; Dee had been reluctant of course, but you'd never have noticed if you weren't looking for it…and Ginny _had _been.

She'd waited til Dee had walked to the far fence before going to Cin; her mind working double-time as she tried to figure out a way to speak to her daughter, _really _speak to her…

"_Cin, just…stay a while longer. I never get to see you…" _

"_Sorry, Mum. But me and Dee have to go. We only got leave for a month and I barely managed to wrangle __**another**__ month out of the army, compassionate grounds and all."_

"_It's just so…sudden. Yesterday you had __**no **__plans to head back. What happened?"_

_Riley shrugged; "Got a call last night, we were ordered back." She gave a gentle smile; "Can't disobey orders, Mum. You know that."_

"_I…I __**worry, **__Cin," she stammered. "I know I haven't been a good mother to you…"_

_Riley smiled warmly at her mother; "You did fine, Mum. I turned out alright. A little left of centre maybe, but that's a good thing."_

_She took a step towards her daughter; "You have friends, Cin? I mean other than Dee? People you can turn to? People you can trust?"_

_Riley's brow creased; "Aaah, yeah. Why?"_

_She'd taken a step towards her daughter; "I mean __**really **__trust, baby. Life and __**death **__trust."_

"_What's going on Mum?" she asked, her frown deepening at the use of that almost long forgotten endearment._

_Ginny sighed as she noticed the change in her daughter's demeanour; the slight squaring of the shoulders and the almost imperceptible cocking of her head. Cin had slipped into 'business' mode. She shook her head; "Nothing, Cin. Don't worry about it. It's probably just the ganja talking," she said with a soft laugh._

"_I'm not an idiot, Mum. Something's up and I want to know what it is."_

"_Cinnamon…"_

"_It's __**Riley, **__Mum. Not Cinnamon and __**definitely **__not Cin. Now tell me what the hell's going on! This isn't __**like **__you."_

"_Your dad just __**died**__, Cin!"_

"_I fucking well __**know **__that!" Riley shouted, taking another step towards her mother. "Only thing I __**didn't **__know was that he __**was **__my dad! So stop the bullshit, and tell me what this is about!"_

"_Cin…Jack…we thought we were doing the right thing not telling you…"_

"_Really. You see, I don't __**get **__that Mum. He __**stayed **__to look after me 'cause…." Riley's eyes widened as her fingers went to the amulet around her neck, "You __**knew…"**_

"_Knew? Knew __**what **__Cin? What are you talking about?" She asked in confusion; finally sighing as Cin refused to answer; "Jack just wasn't sure how long he'd be able to stay, that's all. He didn't want you to know he was your dad in case he had to leave and couldn't come back. He loved you too much for you to ever think you had a father that had abandoned you. I __**explained**__ that __already…"_

"_Yeah, you did…so why don't I believe you?"_

"_Why would I lie, Cin?"_

"_You tell __**me, **__Mum." She looked at her watch; "Look, I gotta go. I'll ring you when I get to the States," she turned to the door, "Maybe you can use the time to think about telling me the truth."_

"_Cin…please…" she begged._

_Riley turned back to her, "What __**is **__it, Mum?"_

_She took Cin's hand and grasped it tightly; "Don't go back, Cin. Stay here…at least for another month…__**please."**_

"_I __**can't **__Mum, I have orders. I have to go."_

"_Fuck the orders! You've never followed them before! You always did whatever you wanted! Stay here! I'm **begging** you, baby."_

"_Jesus Christ, Mum! What the __**fuck **__is going on? This isn't…" _

_They'd both turned as a knock at the door interrupted them._

"_Riley! Time to hit the road or we'll miss the goddamn plane," Dee had said loudly through the screen door._

"_Cin, please.."_

"_Sorry, Mum," she said as she kissed her mother on the cheek, trying to ease the irrational worry her mother was having. "I'll call you, promise."_

_She'd followed Cin out the door, trying to think of something…__**anything **__that would convince her daughter to stay…but she couldn't. She'd finally just grabbed her only child and hugged her fiercely, "I love you, Cin. Always have, always will."_

"_I know, Mum. Me too, okay?" said Riley as she extricated herself from the hug._

"_Cin…"_

"_Yep?" said Riley as she went to the driver's side of the dusty 4WD._

"_You need me…you get into any kind of trouble…anything you can't handle…you __**call **__me and I'll come. __**Promise**__ me, baby," she'd whispered._

"_I promise, Mum. But I'll be fine," she smiled, "Always am. Besides, I got Dee watching my arse."_

_Ginny had nodded slowly; "Just…watch out, Cin. Promise me you'll watch out."_

"_Aaah, okay, Mum," said Riley as she'd slammed the door, she'd rested her arm on the window; "Mum, whatever it is…think about telling me, okay?"_

_She'd nodded to her daughter; "Ring me when you get to America."_

"_I will, I promise."_

_Ginny had kissed Cin on the forehead then watched as she'd driven quickly from the property; a final wave from the window, the last she'd seen of her daughter. Her heart was beating furiously in her chest as she watched her baby leave the safety she could provide her ...and head into the lion's den._

So she'd waited. And waited. But Cin _hadn't _called. She hadn't heard from her daughter since that day. She'd tried calling, but the phone had never been able to make the connection. She wasn't surprised. She rifled through the boxes' contents until she found the scrap of paper she needed; the one Jack had given her a long time ago. A scrap of paper that had come with _strict _instructions; a name and address only ever to be used _once…_life and death once.

She put the box aside and rose slowly; heading into the cool sanctuary of the house. It was time to take a trip ...time to break the web she'd spun and tell her daughter the truth.

As the screen door slammed shut behind her, she didn't hear the slow creak of the rope as the tyre began to swing back and forth in the still afternoon air…

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Bobby stared down at the woman as she piqued an eyebrow at him; that was the only change he could _see _in her demeanour, but he knew he'd thrown her. He waited for her to look away, but she held his gaze as a small smile began to play around her lips. He continued to wait her out, wait for her to speak, but again, she didn't. She just stared at him as he stared at her. It was like a goddamn game of 'Chicken'. And Bobby Singer _never _lost a game of 'Chicken'.

It was Sam who finally broke the silence as he stared confused, and somewhat uncomfortably, between the two. "Okay, I'm a little creeped out by this…" he moved in between them, staring up at Bobby and breaking the line of sight he had to her. "What…" he started; the sentence trailing off as Bobby turned and walked into the house, the screen door banging shut behind him.

Dee turned to Sam, a soft laugh escaping her lips; "You've got weird friends, Winchester."

"Tell me about it," Sam uttered, looking pointedly at her. He turned back to Riley, ducking a swipe at his head; "You didn't tell us you knew Bobby?"

"Don't," she replied as she grabbed a jacket from the truck. "But lets go see how _he_ knows me." She grinned; "I love a good mystery."

Sam stepped in front of her, his hands raised as he blocked her passage to the porch; "Riley, _please_ don't mess with him like you mess with us. He doesn't play well with others."

Riley gasped; "Sam! I'm shocked and appalled that you'd even _think _I'd mess with the old man's head for the sheer delight…" she stopped; shaking her head with a laugh; "Okay, even _I _can't finish that sentence with a straight face." She gave Sam a grin, clapping him on the shoulder as she walked past; "I'll be on my best behaviour."

Sam groaned as Riley jogged up the steps; "Best behaviour, my ass" he muttered under his breath and turning to his brother's chuckle.

"Don't worry, Sammy. If she's naughty, I'll spank her." He grinned at his brother, "Promise,"

"You better mean that, Winchester!" Riley called over her shoulder as she walked into the house.

Sam ignored his brother's promise to do just that to Riley's ass as he followed her into Bobby's. He turned his attention to Dee; "You know Bobby?"

Dee leaned against Riley's truck, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked towards the cabin; "Only by reputation. Never met him. Riley either."

"You sure Riley hasn't met him?"

"I think I'd know if she'd met him or not, Sam. Me and Riley don't _have _secrets."

Sam cocked his head at her, "Everyone has secrets, Dee."

Dee rested her elbows on the truck's hood, looking curiously at Sam; "You have secrets from Dean?"

"'Course. I don't tell him everything and he doesn't tell _me _everything. Kinda pleased about that last bit, I gotta say," he said with a laugh.

Dee pushed herself from Riley's truck and stepped towards Sam, putting herself within inches from him; "Well me and Riley aren't _like _you and Dean, okay?" she muttered, her voice oozing menace. "Riley doesn't _keep _secrets from me, understand?"

Sam was taken aback by the anger that bubbled to the surface, Dee was about to explode; but what bothered him most, was that it was a going to be a _controlled _explosion…the most dangerous kind. He could see the fuse flickering behind her narrowed eyes; hear the hissing of it in her voice; the deep rumbling of apprehensive anticipation vibrating through her muscles. He needed to pinch that fuse out, and fast.

"Sure, Dee," he said calmly, refusing to step back from her. He knew that by keeping her in his personal space, by showing no concern; his suspicions would remain _his. _He shrugged; "I guess it's different between brothers. Dean's been in my face since I was a kid. I kinda need secrets."

He stared into her eyes; studying her as she studied him. He kept his face completely passive, his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets and his posture relaxed as they weighed each other up. It was a subtle stalking of the mind as they fought for discreet dominance; passive aggressiveness versus brazen hostility. Predator versus prey…he just wasn't sure who was whom.

He tried not to blanch as she broke into a wide grin; her eyes twinkling in the moonlight, her shoulders dropping into the relaxed stance he was used to.

"You're brother can be a right pain in the arse, Sam," she grinned, punching him on the shoulder. "My deepest sympathies, old son."

She stepped back from him, as he laughed quietly. He'd put out the fuse and that worried him more than he thought it would; not because he _had _put it out, but because he'd done it so damn quickly. There'd been no 'talking her down', no beckoning her back from the ledge; just a battle of disguised wills that he was beginning to think he may have misinterpreted. The snaking chill that still travelled through him, told him he hadn't.

He watched as she pulled a smoke from her jacket and flicked the Zippo; the flame from the lighter casting dancing shadows across her face. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?" she asked quietly; her eyes flicking to the cabin.

_Alright, Sam, _he thought, _time to think on your feet and li_e_ your ass off. _He glanced over his shoulder, vying for time and took a step towards Dee; he had to give her something, spin some web that she would believe he was worried about…something that wasn't the truth. "I don't know _exactly _what it is Dee, but you were right, something's…off, about her." He glanced over his shoulder at the cabin again; "I can't put my finger on it, but when I mention Dean…she gets all…"

Sam was interrupted by the sound of glass shattering inside the cabin; he glanced at Dee;"Oh, shit," he muttered as he turned and ran into the cabin.

"Jesus, Dundee…" Dee muttered under her breath, stubbing the smoke out under the heel of her boot as she followed Sam quickly inside.

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Bobby was leaning against the wall of his loungeroom, his arms resting casually over his chest as he waited for the woman to enter the house. He knew she'd be the first one to walk through the door; he'd issued a challenge and he had little doubt she'd accept it.

He hid a smug smile as he heard her yell, he assumed, to Dean, before opening the screen door and walking nonchalantly in. He saw her step falter a little, and his eyes narrowed a fraction; she'd done that deliberately; the same way she'd turned her right hand just slightly towards her back. She knew he'd pick up on both of them and she was giving him mixed signals, trying to confuse him. The faltering step implying she was unsure of him and her surroundings; the hand telling him she was carrying. But her eyes never left his; they held back from taking in her surroundings. She knew the threat wasn't coming from around her, it was coming from him

She'd been taught well.

Dean entered moments later; a grin plastered on his face as he took the woman's hand almost possessively and led her over to him.

"Bobby, this is…" started Dean.

"Like I said, I know who she is."

Riley ignored the open hostility of the man as she studied him carefully. His posture was relaxed; leaning casually against the wall, his arms over his chest – quietly confident. Well he would be, She was in _his _domain; this was _his _den and she'd walked into it with two of his 'cubs'. She was playing by his rules…until she decided differently, She smiled and stuck out her hand; "Well you're one up on me…"

Bobby looked at the hand then brought his eyes back to hers; "Cinnamon Riley."

She grinned again; "I believe that's _my _name, and it's just Riley. Yours would be?"

"This is Bobby Singer," said Dean as he stared hard at his long-time friend. "He…"

"Knew your father," Bobby interrupted, his eyes not leaving Riley's.

Riley cocked her head; "My father, _not _my uncle," she stated as she put the extended hand into the pocket of her jeans.

"That's what I said."

"You knew Jack?" asked Dean as he walked into the kitchen that was just off the lounge.

Riley watched Bobby as she heard the sound of bottles clinking from the kitchen. He wasn't giving anything away. If she wanted answers, he was gonna make her work for them. Interesting.

Dean came back with three beers, handing one to Riley and another to Bobby. "Cheers."

She raised the beer to her lips; watching as Bobby refused to drink. She turned to Dean;  
"Ta," she said, giving him a smile as he slipped his hand into the back pocket of her jeans. She turned her attention back to Bobby; "I take it you and my dad didn't get along, then."

Bobby piqued an eyebrow at the woman; time to see how far he could push her. "Oh, we got along fine."

Riley nodded slowly, "So the problems with me," she sipped at her beer, "You want to let me in on the secret, Bobby? I _love _a good gossip."

"Alright," started Dean, "What the hell's going on here?"

Bobby flicked his eyes to Dean; "I'll get to you in a minute, boy." He turned his gaze back to Riley, his eyes hard as they flicked to the amulet she wore around her neck. "Nice trinket."

"Bobby, what the hell's _wrong_ with you?" Dean asked; trying to control his anger as he felt Riley stiffen beside him. He put his beer down. "We came here…"

"Why _did _you come here, Dean?" Bobby interrupted.

"Why'd you say you were expecting us?" asked Riley.

"Don't believe I was talking to you," snapped Bobby as he watched Dean carefully. "You need to keep your …_friend_ …here on a leash, son."

Dean moved quickly, pushing Bobby against the wall, his eyes blazing. "What the fuck's wrong with you?" he slammed Bobby back again as the man took a step away from the wall. "Tell me why you're acting like an asshole, Bobby, or I swear…"

Bobby stared calmly at Dean; he'd reacted just like he thought he would, "Tell me, Dean. What do you know about your little _friend_ here?"

"You _watch_ your mouth," Dean threatened.

"Answer the question, son."

"I'm _not _your son, and I know all I need to know. So back the fuck off." He shoved Bobby against the wall once more before letting him go.

Bobby turned to Riley; her jaw was clenched and she was holding onto her beer tightly; "Your father would be turning in his grave…" he ducked the bottle that was thrown at him; the glass shattering on the wall behind him and showering him with beer and glass. Bingo.

He didn't have time to savour the small victory, before he found himself on his back, Dean's knee pressed painfully into his chest.

"I _told _you to watch your mouth!" Dean hissed as he slammed Bobby against the floor.

Bobby turned as he heard the screen door slam open, Dee was holding Riley back, as Sam cursed before trying to haul Dean from him.

"DEAN! LET HIM GO!" Sam yelled as he tried to unlock the grip Dean had on the Bobby's shirt. He could _feel _the anger that was sweeping through his brother as Dean glared at Bobby. "Let him go, dude. Come on, it's _Bobby, _man."

Dean was breathing heavily as he stared at his long-time friend; the soft, dulcet tones of his mother's voice sighing through his mind. "You _ever _disrespect her like that again, you won't know what fucking hit you, Are we clear?" he stared angrily at Bobby; "A simple nod will do, _Bobby." _

"This is _my _house, _Dean. _My rules. Now get the hell off me before I _really _take exception," he pushed Dean as Sam wrenched his brother from him.

"Go see Riley, Dean. I think she's not far behind you in the 'I'm gonna kick Bobby's ass' stakes," he gave Dean a gentle push; "Go."

Dean gave Bobby one last glare before shrugging away from Sam and heading over to Riley and Dee.

Sam reached down and gave Bobby his hand, helping him to his feet; "What the _hell _was that about?"

"Nothin'." Bobby muttered as he reached down and picked up his cap, his eyes flicking to Dean and Riley. Looked like he was having some trouble calming her down; that wasn't surprising, Bobby had found her weak spot and hit her there.

"Bullshit," Sam replied; "Riley's one of the most laid-back people I know. What did you say to piss her off?"

Bobby ignored the question; "Your brother seems a might protective of her."

Sam sighed; "Listen, Bobby. You need to start explaining what the hell's going on or…" his eyes flicked in his brother's direction, "Things are probably gonna get nasty again."

"And quickly," Dean intoned angrily as he turned. "I'm not deaf and neither is Riley."

"You gonna answer my question, Dean?" Bobby asked. "What do you know about..."

"Riley? Like I said. I know all I need to know," he replied as his arm went around her.

"She and Dee saved our lives, Bobby," Sam stated. "More than once, so yeah, we know enough. And they knew dad, too. Dad trusted them…" he cocked his head, "Why don't you?"

"Because I know all about them, that's why."

"Them?" queried Dee.

"I'll get to you soon, missy." Bobby turned to Riley, "You tell Dean about your mom?"

Riley glared at Bobby, her arm tightening around Dean's waist. "Dean knows about my mum. Sam too."

"Do they?"

Sam rolled his eyes; "Her mom has a dope orchard in Australia and spends most of her time stoned."

"Not most, _all," _Dee corrected.

"Uh huh, and where did Jack meet her?" asked Bobby.

"What's it to you? And if you _knew _my dad, you'd know where they met." She took a step towards him, the sound of her father's voice whispering through her mind; "Or is that _more _bullshit you're trying to spin to get me away from Dean?"

"You need to start answering some questions, Bobby," stated Dean as he stepped next to Riley.

"How 'bout we start with how the hell you knew my dad?"

"You knew Jack?" Sam asked incredulously. "You never told us."

"Had no reason to," Bobby replied. "But then again, didn't know you two had hooked up with them."

"We _told _you we'd worked a few jobs with…"

"_Friends, _you said. You never told me it was _her." _

"Watch it, Bobby. I won't say it again." Dean angered.

"Listen here, old man," Dee interrupted, "I don't know what rumours or gossip has managed to filter through to you and disturb your delicate sensibilities…" she held up a hand as he opened his mouth; "I'm not finished," she took a step towards Bobby, standing the other side of Riley; "You piss Riley off, you piss _me _off," she smiled sweetly at him, "And a pissed of me _ain't _a good thing, gramps."

Bobby looked at Riley; "That's quite a posse you have there."

"If you don't start answering my goddamn questions…" Riley threatened.

Bobby raised an eyebrow; "Your dad…"

"Yeah, my dad. How the hell do you know my dad?"

Bobby stared hard at her; she didn't know. Jesus, Jack said he was going to tell her, but she didn't know. His eyes flicked to Dee; she was staring at him with unabashed fury. He had to walk a fine line; a very freakin' fine line. And until he knew _exactly _what was going on with them, he'd have to keep them here for as long as he could.

If he wanted to save the boys, he needed to keep the women here.

It was time to spin the first lie in his web.

"_I _was the one that saved him from your mom." said the spider to the fly.

_**To be continued…**_


	7. We Meet Again

_(A/N: Big thanks to Kes Cross for helping me with the 'English' structural/geographical details within this chapter. Big up, dude!)_

_(A/N: This chapter is rated for sexual content. Read on at your own risk…AJ)_

(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural related; the following story and the characters of Riley and Dee belong to me)

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**Requiem.**

**Chapter Seven.**

_**South-West England.**_

_**30 years ago…**_

Hard, fat rain lashed against the mullion-glass window; it sluiced down the panes and seeped between the old wood that separated each piece of hand-blown glass. The spindly branches of the large Rowan tree scratched across the same window, sounding like bony fingers scraping desperately at the glass for entry. The howling winds that whipped around the 14th century cottage were like those of a vengeful banshee screaming her omen through the Moors.

It was a raging tempest that thundered its fury; a natural barrier to prying eyes ...and it was the perfect backdrop to what was happening within the cottage but it was also in stark contrast to it.

Fire crackled in the stone hearth, the flames licking at the lintel; red, orange, yellow…and the blue you only ever saw in the hottest part of the flame, the _heart _of the flame. And it was the heart they were manipulating now.

She lay on a soft bed of straw; the flaxen hay was peppered with cardamom leaves and valerian root and she could smell the mullein wafting through the room and sneaking through the small cracks in the Cobb walls. Her scantily-clad body shone in the flickering light of the fire, the Calamus oil creating a heat that burned seductively into her skin. She turned her head to the blaze; her glazed eyes watching each flame circle upwards, twisting slowly around each other in an erotic fiery dance.

A lazy smile spread across her lips; fire. It all came back to fire. It was everywhere you looked and everywhere you didn't. It symbolised so many things…death, destruction, suffering…Hell. It had all been explained to her. She understood. Her smile widened as her hands travelled over herself as the next realisation swept over her. And didn't fire also symbolise passion? Oh yes, _passion._ The word tumbled from almost numb lips; a whisper that was carried upwards, her eyes following the spinning path of the word.

She watched as the word took literal form, the letters filtering through the smoke and drifting towards the wooden beams that lined the ceiling. The word skimmed over her lips again and again; the tantric lull of that one mystical word now taking control of her.

Her head lolled to the side as she heard the soft voice at her hip take up the mantra. Dark red hair flowing over ivory shoulders; sea green eyes, the pupils blown; full lips moving seductively as they mirrored the movements hers made.

The lilting rhythm of their voices grew in tempo; the words now a swirling, spellbinding vortex around the room. Her eyes flicked to the sound of a struck match and her heart began to race; adrenalin screaming through her body; heightening all her senses. She could _see _the smoke snaking through the conjured words; _feel _the heat of the fire that burned within her; the exotic mixture of herbs and incense, a bewitching bouquet she breathed deep into her lungs. The hypnotic hum of the requiem stole all other sounds from her; the flash of blue flames on her periphery letting her know there was no going back now.

She arched her back, the diaphanous red robe falling away from her quivering limbs. Her left arm was lifted; the slice of the dagger to her forearm bringing shudders of pain and pleasure to her; her words spewing forth with the other as the blood snaked down her skin, a tender teasing of crimson fingers.

She turned her eyes to the blood-letting; watching, mesmerised, as the ruby droplets hung precariously from her wrist before falling haltingly through the haze, splattering the face on the photo. She kept up her mantra as her mentor began to recite the Latin they needed, the husky undertones of her voice like a bewitching lullaby.

Sweat ran in rivulets down her body, the sheer robe now glued to her, accentuating every rise and valley. Her skin was afire, a deep tingling running through her as the rhythmic cadence rose…

'_Dies iræ, dies illa,_

_Solvet sæclum in favilla._

_Teste David cum Sibylla!"_

She arched her back as the words fluttered over her, caressing her; a deep, burning desire rushing through her as the face of the one who'd been chosen, hovered over her. His deep green eyes locked with hers and she shook with orgiastic pleasure as the connection was made…she could see nothing but those green eyes staring into hers, the smell of cinnamon lingering over them…and her mantra faltered slightly, a sense of doubt niggling at her as she looked into his face; but the digging of fingernails into her flesh, refocussed her attention.

'_Per is vir, pario a parvulus,_

_Vitualamen mos suscitatio vos!_

_Insons insontis donatus pro reverto nostri era_

_Pario a parvulus!_

_Pario a parvulus!_

_PARIO A PARVULUS!'_

Her mentor lifted the photo and brought it to the small blaze burning in the ceremonial bowl; the flames devouring the picture as the smoke billowed upwards, filling the room and seeking all those within. It tumbled outwards, laying claim to every beating heart, taking hold of every conscious thought and marking those who bore witness to the ritual.

The mantra and the Latin reached a crescendo, coursing through them before it slowly began to abate, 'til only one phrase circled the room; an almost silent whisper, a beckoning that was winding down as it was sent out.

'_Pario a parvulus…pario a parvulus…pario a parvulus…"_

A whisper that was now echoed by the woman on the floor…

'_Bring forth the child…bring forth the child…bring forth the child…"_

The smoke folded back in on itself and drifted languidly towards the floor, seeking out the heat of its creator. It slithered across the boards and into the hearth, snaking up the chimney and out into the growling tempest raging outside.

The two women were breathing heavily through satisfied smiles. Their eyes locked and their smiles grew wider as the first step in their ritual had been taken. It had been a long road to this point; a journey one had been taking since birth; the other, more of a hitchhiker on a broken boulevard, searching for a ride to a place she could call home.

They turned quickly to a small whimper coming from the corner; the smiles dying on their lips as they saw the huddled form of the child in the corner. Her dark red hair was plastered to her ashen face, her sea green eyes wide with terror, and blood dribbled down her chin from where she'd bitten her lip in fear. She was rocking back and forth as she clutched a worn, much-loved teddy bear to her tiny chest; the rolling from her in tumultous waves.

The child stared, whimpering as she pushed herself back further into the corner, trying to escape what she'd just seen. The women rose and made their tentative way over to her, her terrified eyes moving frantically between those of the visitor and her mother; fear and familiarity fighting for dominance in her young mind. She didn't understand what she'd just seen, what had just happened; but it had brought a terrifying dread to her.

She should _never _have left her bed! She should have _listened _to her mummy! But she'd been woken from her sleep by someone calling to her, and she'd gone in search of the beckoning voice; a smile forming on her lips as she thought this was a game her mummy wanted to play. But when she'd stepped into the room, she'd frozen, wrapping her arms tightly around her bear, 'George', as she watched smoke and words spinning madly around the room. She didn't want to play this game. She wanted to run. She wanted to get away, but she _knew _that if she did, the words would _find _her…and that would be bad. She was little, she didn't know much...but she knew _that. _

But they'd found her anyway; the words whipping around her and forcing her into the corner; the smoke they were carried on enveloping her in a hazy embrace. She'd squeezed her eyes and lips shut but it had been no use; the smoke had forced itself in; pushing past her now white lips and forcing its way through her damp lashes. She'd _tried _to scream; tried to scream for her mummy, but no sound had come out. All it did was create another entrance for the violator. Her mind was screaming out for help, but it was a scream that never reached her lips. It echoed round her fragile mind, a mind that was too young to understand what was happening…a mind that was _vulnerable. _And a mind that now had no choice but to listen.

She looked up as her mother reached out a hand to her; her terror finally giving way as warmth slid down her legs and she shook with fear.

"Isobel! _Do _something!" the woman whispered as loudly as she dared; she didn't want to scare the child anymore than she had been. "Shhh, honey," she said softly before turning to Isobel. "You _said _no one was here!"

"Shut up, Ginny!" she spat back as she reached for her daughter, pulling her into her arms and holding her tight. "She was supposed to be asleep. Now pack and get your daft self over to the States…" she gave Virginia a small smile "You've a child to bring forth."

"Izzy…"

"Go!" she ordered, giving Ginny a push.

Ginny stood and stared at the little girl that sat trembling in her mother's arms; she shivered as those big green eyes shifted up to hers, eyes that seemed to see right into her. She turned quickly and left the room; not wanting to stare into those eyes any longer. Those eyes that seemed to _accuse _her.

"Mummymummymummymummymummymummymummy…" the little girl mumbled over and over; her teddy-bear clutched in one arm, the other clinging desperately to her mother.

"Shhh, it'll be alright, baby." Isobel said softly, stroking her daughter's damp forehead. "Mummy's here, Dee and everything will be alright now." She rocked her daughter gently, "Mummy's fixed everything. You're safe now, baby. Safe now, safe now, safe now, safe now, safe now..."

"Mummymummymummymummymummymummymummy…" she continued to whisper; her mantra mixing with her mother's and blocking the other whisper that hummed through her brittle mind…_'__**my**__ child, __**my**__ child, __**my**__ child...**mine**...**mine**...**mine...**'_

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_**Carthage, South Dakota.**_

_**Eight moths later…**_

Isobel Richardson paced the small motel, her eyes going to her watch _again_ before striding to the window and pushing the curtain back as she scanned the parking lot …_again. _Nothing. She dropped the threadbare material with disgust, stomping her way over to the bar fridge and grabbing a small bottle of whiskey. She wrenched the lid open and drank the amber liquid in two gulps; throwing the empty bottle into the sink and smashing it. She sighed, relishing the pleasant burn that scorched her throat.

She turned, stopping mid-step as she stared into small green eyes; "Don't _look _at me like that!" she snapped; her anger growing as her daughter's eyes followed her around the room. Those damn eyes that now seemed to know _everything _about her; that uncovered every lie, could see through every deceit and read _every _emotion. Eyes that told her she knew _exactly _what she was thinking with one glance.

She walked over to her daughter and crouched in front of her, putting a gentle hand to her face; "_Say _something, Dee."

She sighed as her daughter did nothing but stare at her; that bloody bear clutched to her chest. Dee hadn't said a word since that night eight months ago; almost three years old and she no longer spoke. She did nothing but stare at her mother, accusation shining brightly from her eyes. Didn't she understand she'd done this _for _her? Done this to _save _her?

She snapped her head up as she heard a car door slam outside. She was at the window in an instant, peeking through the curtains and smiling as she saw Ginny move quickly to the door of the motel room. She ignored the insistent knock as she went to Dee, picking her up and taking her to the bathroom. She picked up the bath-mat, placed it into the bath and sat Dee down gently.

"You stay here, Dee. Don't _move _and do _not _make a sound, okay baby? Mummy will deal with this and then you'll be safe. Okay?" Dee only stared. Isobel rose and pulled the shower curtain across, hiding her daughter.

She shut the door to the bathroom and went to the front door, opening it and yanking Ginny into the room, slamming and locking the door behind her. "Where the _hell _have you been?" she demanded, rounding on the woman. "You were supposed to be here _yesterday!"_

Ginny shuffled nervously from foot to foot; her eyes darting around the motel room. "I …I got here as soon as I _could _Izzy!"

"Well?"

"Something went wrong…he…I've bumped into him a few times now and …nothing. If I keep doing it, he'll get suspicious. We have to find another way…"

"There _is _no other way! You _find _Jack Riley and you _make _him…"

"I CAN'T!" Ginny yelled. "Don't you understand? He…" she was stopped by a slap.

"You listen to _me, _Ginny!" Isobel hissed, her anger rising like wildfire. "We performed the ceremony! There is no _way _Jack would say no to you!" she began to pace, her mind spinning. She turned to Ginny, "Where is he?"

"I …I don't know. He left here day before yesterday. I _can't _follow him. He's working with some other man…I don't trust him. He looks at me…he doesn't trust _me, _Izzy! There's got to be another way…"

Izzy turned on her, "There _is _no other way! You promised Her a _child, _Ginny. You _owe _Her!"

Ginny shook her head; "No, I …I made a mistake, Izzy," she said as she edged towards the door; "I don't want to do this anymore…I just want to go home…"

Izzy blocked her passage to the door, panic starting to set in. Ginny _couldn't _leave, she _had _to provide her with a child, it was the only way to save Dee. "There _is _no going home, Ginny!" she hissed. "You made a pact! You _pay _your dues!"

"NO!" she pushed Izzy out of the way. "I won't do it! You find someone else!"

"There _is _no one else, Ginny! _You _made a vow and …"

"I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING!"

"You knew _exactly _what you were doing! I _explained _it to…" she stopped as realisation dawned on her. She pushed Ginny back against the wall and ripped her coat open, the small rise in her belly confirming it. She smiled in relief, Dee was safe.

Ginny pushed Izzy from her and ran towards the door; "STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!"

But there was no way Izzy was letting her go. No _way. _The baby that was growing inside Ginny was the only thing that would save her daughter and _nothing _was going to get in the way of her doing that. She threw herself at Ginny, tackling her to the floor. "That baby belongs to me!"

"NO! IT'S _MY _BABY! MINE!" Ginny yelled as she tried to fight Izzy.

Izzy slammed Ginny's head against the floor, dazing her. She turned her over, sitting on her legs as she reached for her bag. She opened it quickly, her trembling fingers removing the ceremonial dagger she kept there. It didn't matter that the child hadn't been born, she'd take it now, she had no other choice. God_damn! _She had no other choice! Tears sprang to her eyes as she raised the dagger, "I'm sorry, Ginny. I am…but I _have _to."

"_Please, _Izzy! Don't…please don't…" Ginny begged; putting her hands protectively over her stomach. "I _love _this baby...you know how that feels…_please…" _

"That's why I have to do this, Ginny. To save _my _baby. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she said as tears slid down her cheeks. She raised the dagger and closed her eyes.

"Noooooooooooo…." Ginny wailed as she watched the blade waver above her friends head.

She turned as the door was kicked in; a knife flying over her head, Izzy's scream echoing round the small room. She felt her friend pitched off her and she scrambled backwards towards the door.

The man kicked the door shut behind him and went to her, inspecting her broken nose; "Can you drive?"

Ginny didn't say anything; just stared at the groaning form of Izzy.

"Can you drive!" he demanded.

She turned her eyes to his and nodded. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to get you out of the fucking _mess_ you're in, girl!" he said. He looked at her belly and turned disgusted eyes to her, "You got what you wanted," he spat as he hauled her to her feet. "You want to stay alive, you do exactly as I say. You run. You don't contact Jack again, _ever. _He doesn't find out about this," he pointed to her stomach. He turned his attention to Izzy, "I'll clean up this mess. Now get the fuck out of here."

"Don't kill her, _please. _You don't…"

"You say _one _more word and I'll kill you _and _her!" he pushed her to the door. "And if I see your face _ever _again, I'll kill you. Understand?"

She stared into the hunter's eyes, the hate coming at her like daggers, and she finally nodded. "Please, just…tell Jack…tell him…I love him."

"Get the _fuck _out of here!" he roared; opening the door and shoving her out. "The _only _reason I _don't _kill you is _because _of Jack! Now _move!" _

He slammed the door in her face, waiting until he heard the sound of tyres peeling out of the motel parking lot before going to the woman on the floor. He removed the dagger and checked the wound in her chest; it was deep, there was little time and he needed answers.

He hauled her into a sitting position and slapped her to get her to focus on him. "Name!" he demanded.

"Fuck you, arsehole!" she spat, blood flying from her lips and spattering his face.

"English. Interesting." He pulled a gun from the small of his back and trained it on her as he went to her bag and rummaged through it, finding her purse. He raised his eyes, "Isobel Richardson." He went to her, "It's over, _Isobel." _

Izzy laughed at the man in front of her; "You know _nothing. _That baby is _marked. _Ginny and I made _sure _it was." She leaned towards the man, "So you tell Jack Riley, that payback's a bitch! _His _child is promised …" she was stopped by the slap.

"You listen to _me. _There will be _no _bringing that _bitch _back. Your little _ritual _had nothing to _do _with Jack and Virginia. That was all them." He laughed, "You think I didn't spot it?"

Izzy laughed; "It's _you _who doesn't understand! It doesn't matter _how, _all that matters is that she promised a child…_Jack's _child. The sacrifice will happen either way. You wait and see!"

The man smiled at her; "Unless your dead, right? That ends it. You were the one that performed the ceremony. You die, it's null and void." He smiled; "Your fucked-up life for that of an innocent? I can live with that."

"You kill a human, you know where you go!" she hissed.

"I'll take my chances," he replied; taking a chair and sitting opposite her. "You're no better than the demons I hunt. I _saved _a child, I didn't _kill _one." He smiled at her, "So I'll wait you out," he looked at his watch, "Won't be much longer."

"You didn't _save _a child, you _condemned _one!" she hissed, blood bubbling from her mouth as her breath hitched. "I'll see you in Hell!" she spat, her eyes slowly taking on the glazed look of death he was starting to become all too used to.

He took a deep breath as her head slumped onto her chest; he reached out and put fingers to her throat; he sighed and stood. It was over. That bitch wouldn't rise and Jack's child - one he'd _never _know about - was safe. He turned and stopped; his heart lurching in his chest as he stared at the little girl in the bathroom door; a teddy-bear in her arms, her eyes glued to the bloodied body of who could only be her mother.

"Jesus…" he muttered. "Jesus Christ Almighty…"

He went to the child and picked her up; she didn't resist. He looked quickly around the room, and saw another bag beside one of the beds. He ran over, knelt next to it and unzipped it. Shit, kids clothes. He looked around the room, there were _no _toys about the place! He'd had no idea! Shit! Shit! Shit!

He threw the bag over his shoulder and turned her face away from her mother's body and went to the door; opening it quickly, locking it behind him and taking the girl to his truck. He belted her in and ran to the driver;s side and jumped in; he gunned the engine and fishtailed out of the lot and onto the highway…with absolutely _no _idea what he was going to do. He'd just killed a woman and stolen her child.

For the first time in a long time, Bobby Singer didn't know what to do.

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_**Present Day…**_

Dean, Sam, Riley and Dee stared at Bobby as the man leaned casually against the wall. His gaze was focussed on Riley, watching her reaction to his last sentence. He hid his frown as he saw Dean's arm tighten around her shoulders.

"What the hell do you _mean _you saved Jack from Ginny?" demanded Dee as she took a threatening step towards the man. "The _only _thing Ginny's a threat to is the international supply of ganja! Now fucking explain yourself!"

Bobby ignored her as he watched Riley; he saw the slight shift in her weight and he braced himself, but Sam had noticed it as well and put himself between them.

"Riley. Calm down, we'll get answers okay? I promise," said Sam as he leaned in, "Jumping him and beating the crap outta him isn't the way to do it."

"Ya think?" she snapped. She shrugged out of Dean's arm and pushed Sam out of the way; taking the two steps that put her directly in front of Bobby. "Lets get something straight, _Bobby. _Normally, I'm pretty easy going. I let a _lot _of things slide 'cause I just can't be bothered dealing with bullshit …and I'm a little lazy." She pushed her face towards him, her eyes hardening as she glared at the man, "But know this," she said with quiet menace, "You _fuck _with me, I'll kill you."

"Riley…" started Sam.

"Leave her be, Sam," Dee interrupted, pulling Sam away from Riley.

"You start talking, and if I so much as get a _hint _that you're lying to me, that you're trying to _play _me…" a sweet smile rose to her lips, "You won't see me coming."

Bobby stared into Riley's eyes, his smile matching hers; "You don't scare me, _Cinnamon," _Bobby stated calmly, ignoring Sam's groan.

Riley smiled again as she leaned over and whispered in his ear; "Good. Just remember who trained me."

"How about we all sit and …" started Sam.

"I'll stand," said Riley as she took a step backwards, "And I'm waiting for an answer."

"Well I'm not ready to _give _you an answer, Cinnamon."

"Her name is _Riley," _Dee intoned angrily, her fists clenching. "And you better bloody well start talking or …"

"Or what?" Bobby asked.

"You really want an answer to that?" she asked.

"Alright. This stops right here!" Dean angered. "I don't know what the hell's going on with you Bobby, but you listen and you listen good." He took a step towards the man; "Me and Sammy trust Riley and Dee and _Dad _trusted them. And you know Dad didn't freakin' well trust _anyone. _So you need to start explaining why _you _don't."

"And no bullshit, Bobby," said Sam as he placed a calming hand on his brother's shoulder. "We came here for some help, we _always _come here for help. Me and Dean trust _you…_you need to trust _us _on this one. Come on, man." He smiled at Bobby, "It's _us, _Bobby."

"Is it?"

Dee laughed; "No, we're doppelgangers with high aspirations. We plan on taking over the world, one shitty cabin at a time."

"Keep it up, chuckles," snapped Bobby.

"HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW MY DAD!" Riley yelled.

"Easy, Riley…" said Dean placatingly, putting his arm around her.

She shrugged out of it and glared at Bobby; "You don't want to tell me? I'll fucking well figure it out for myself!" she turned and stormed towards the door, kicking the screen open, swearing up a storm as she stomped out.

"Nice one, Bobby," said Sam sarcastically; watching as Dee went after Riley.

"Jesus Christ, Bobby!" Dean exclaimed, "Just tell us what the _hell _is going on?"

Bobby sighed; "Sit down, boys. Come on, sit."

Dean and Sam exchanged a glance at the sudden change in Bobby's demeanour after Riley and Dee's departure. They moved over to the sofa; Sam lowering his tall frame onto the cushions as Dean took his position on the arm of the sofa; the sound of Dee and Riley's muffled arguing filtering slowly into the house.

"Well?" asked Sam.

"Seriously, boys. How much do you know about them?"

"Jesus, Bobby. We explained that already," said Dean with exasperation. "They saved our asses in Vermont, we saved theirs in Nevada."

"Jack was killed in Nevada," Bobby stated.

"Yeah," said Dean softly as he glanced at the man he looked up to like a father; "He died trying to save me and Sammy, Bobby."

"You were _there?"_

"We were there," said Sam. "That yellow-eyed bastard ripped him open in front of us. That's how we hooked up with Dee and Riley again. We didn't know who he was until he told us his name...right before he died."

"Lilith," Bobby stated as Dean and Sam nodded.

"You knew Jack was hunting her?" asked Sam.

"No, of _course _not! I knew he was hunting _something, _he was _always _hunting something. Never told me what."

"Then how the hell'd you find out? We've never told anyone," said Dean as he rose.

"Are you two idjits?" he put up a hand, "Don't answer that. You think her death didn't spread like wildfire through the community? No one knows who did it, but I put two and two together and figured out it was Jack."

"It _wasn't _Jack," said Sam. "It was Dean and Riley," he sighed. "Look, just forget about that for now. Why the hell are you pissed at Riley? You've never met her and if you knew Jack well, you'd know how much he loved her. So what _is _it?"

Bobby looked at Dean, "What's going on with you and her?"

"Her _name's _Riley, Bobby. Use it."

"You gonna answer my question, Dean?"

Dean shrugged; "So we hook up when we're together. What's wrong with that? It's not like we're gonna start hunting together or anything." He grinned at his brother; "I'm already hunting with a girl."

"Asshole," said Sam with a laugh.

"So you and she…" Bobby raised an eyebrow.

"You're not getting details you dirty ol' bastard," said Dean with a laugh. "We're hanging out for a while, then we go our separate ways. Down time, Bobby. You've heard of that, right?"

Bobby nodded slowly, what he'd seen between them was more than just a convenient hook-up. "So if she left tonight, you'd be fine with that."

"Sure," said Dean. "Like I said, we have fun when we're together then…" he shrugged. "She goes her way, I go mine. No strings. Works for both of us."

"And if she hooked up with someone else?" Bobby asked. He noticed the slight hardening of Dean's eyes and the way his right hand tightened on his leg.

"She can _hook up _with anyone she wants. We're not freakin' well married, Bobby. What _is _it with all the damn questions?"

Sam was trying not to stare at his brother; was he _kidding? _Why the _hell _was Dean lying to Bobby? He frowned to himself; was Dean even _aware _that he was lying?

Bobby ignored Dean's question and turned to Sam, "And you and Dee?"

"What?" He frowned before his eyes widened comically. "Good God, no!" he said a little forcefully. "Dean and _Riley _bang their brains out, me and Dee suffer in silence…and I mean _suffer."_

"Again, in the room, dude," said Dean as he cuffed his brother across the back of the head. He turned to Bobby, "So you gonna answer _my _question, Bobby? What the hell's going on with you and Riley?"

Bobby stood, "I need to check some stuff first. You and your…friends can stay here. You know where the rooms are."

"Bobby…" started Sam. He sighed as he watched the man disappear down the hallway, his bedroom door slamming and locking behind him. He turned to Dean; "What the hell?"

Dean shrugged, "Guess we find out tomorrow." He stood, "You even _think _about rooming with me, dude, I'll kick your ass."

Sam watched as his brother disappeared out the front door; how could Dean just leave it like that? It wasn't _like _him. He turned his eyes back to the hallway then to the front door and back again. _Everyone _was lying. Dean, Bobby, Dee and Riley; they were _all _keeping secrets and keeping secrets where they were concerned only ever came back to bite them on the ass. They'd learned _that _the hard way. Secrets and lies...those idiots were swimming in them.

He dropped his head into his hands; a small groan escaping his lips. So was he. Shit, so was he.

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_Their hands worked quickly, their clothes a barrier between them they would no longer tolerate. It was skin against skin for which they hungered. The feel of hard muscle under feather-light touches; calloused hands grazing over supple curves; nails scraping over heated skin and fingers digging into flushed flesh. They craved it._

_Hearts were racing; hands were exploring as their mouths devoured each other. Moans, soft and loud filled the room as their hunger intensified. It was an intoxicating mix of the senses. Touch, taste, sound, sight and scent…it wound around them, enslaving them. Each of them the other's devoted prisoner._

_His hands slid slowly down her back, picking her up and taking her to the bed, but he couldn't wait any longer, he had to be inside her, and pushed in deep before he lay her down; her arching back bringing him deeper._

_His lips moved down to her neck, biting her, marking her and she begged for more. Begged for everything he could give her; she wanted to drown in him. A slow, erotic death of lust and desire was what she prayed for._

_He raised his head to her pleas, pinning her arms to the bed as he stared into her eyes; "You __**belong **__to me," he growled. "Understand?"_

_She nodded; unable to break his gaze…and not wanting to. Her legs tightened around him, urging him on, but he only teased her. "Say it, Riley," he demanded. "Say it and I'll give you what you want."_

"_I belong to you…."_

"_**Only **__me."_

"_Only you, Dean.." she gasped, "Only you."_

_He smiled, "Only me…" he mumbled against her neck, his lips whispering over the throbbing of her blood through her throat; the throat, the body that was his. His and only his. He bit down hard, his teeth breaking the skin as she cried out in pain and pleasure; the sound of her, the power he held over her tipping him over the edge and he exploded in an ecstasy so intense, his vision clouded and he could see nothing but her eyes; hear nothing but her whispering his name, taste nothing but her blood and sweat…__**her **__on his lips._

_He raised his head; sweat and blood dripping onto her; "You __**own **__me," he whispered as he pulled her lips to his throat; "__**Own **__me…"_

****

_**To be continued…**_


	8. Cross my Heart

(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural related; the following story and the characters of Riley and Dee belong to me)

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Eight.**

Sam lay on the thin mattress that rested on the floor of the spare bedroom, the sheets pooled around his waist as he stared up at the ceiling. A small smile touched his lips as he took in the familiar protection symbols Bobby placed all around his home. He remembered staring at them as a child, utterly fascinated with the intricate markings and designs, awed by the attention to detail, and captivated by the mystery surrounding them.

Any stay they'd had at Bobby's, he'd spent his time studying each one of symbols, memorising the composition of them…and nodding seriously to the lies Bobby and his father had spun as to what they were. Even at that young age, being completely unaware of the evil that lurked around his family, he _knew _that these symbols were _good _things, things he instinctively knew he needed to understand.

On one particular visit, he'd noticed Dean studying him as he studied the sigils, a thoughtful expression on his big brother's face; and he'd watched, warily, as Dean had made his way over to him. He'd stared up at his adored older brother, praying he hadn't upset him, but Dean had just smiled at him; _'You learnin', Sammy?' _he'd whispered, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder to where their father was discussing 'work' with Bobby.

Sam's eyes had flicked towards the two men before going back to Dean's, and he nodded slowly. Leaning forward, he returned the whisper; _'I need to learn these things, Dean,"_ he'd glanced at his father and Bobby again then returned his gaze to Dean's; _'I __**know **__I do." _He'd stared into his hero's eyes, pleading silently in that unspoken communication they shared, _'Teach me, Dean,' _he'd finally begged.

He'd watched as his brother had stared intently at him, looking _into _him, and Dean had finally given him a subtle nod. _'You learn to draw 'em perfectly Sammy, I'll teach you. But this is__** our **__secret okay?" _

He'd nodded vigorously, his eyes lighting up at the chance of understanding what the symbols meant, but moreso at the thought of spending time with Dean.

'_Dad'll kick our asses if he finds out, so he doesn't find out you hear me?" _Dean had instructed.

He'd nodded solemnly, raising his finger to his chest; _'Cross my heart and hope…" _he'd flinched as Dean had slapped his hand over his mouth. _'You __**never **__say that, Sammy!" _Dean had whispered urgently. _**'Never. **__Nod if you understand." _Sam had nodded into the fearful eyes of his brother. _'Promise me, Sammy." _Sam had nodded again and spoken a muffled 'I promise' against Dean's palm. Dean had nodded, dropped his hand and gone to the couch, flopping onto it and flicking through the comic book that was always stuffed into the back pocket of his brother's jeans.

Sam had never uttered that phrase again. Even now, as an adult, he still couldn't mouth the words, let alone think them. He laughed softly; yeah, he was well-adjusted. His eyes flicked from the sigil on the ceiling to the sleeping form of his roomie; Dee was crashed on her stomach, the pillow still over her head from trying to block the sounds of Dean and Riley that had screamed through the adjoining wall. Another well-adjusted individual, he thought with a laugh.

His gaze returned to the sigil; his eyes wandering over the perfectly drawn lines, the lines that now began to blur around the edges as his lids grew heavy; his lashes now resembling prison bars across the symbol as his eyes slowly closed.

Sleep snuck up on him; its silent creeping footfalls going unnoticed as it wrapped its slumberous arms around him and dragged him into its dark den. A secretive whisper sighing into his ear and skulking through his mind…

_Cross your heart and hope to __**die, **__Sam Winchester…._

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Bobby was sitting on his bed, an array of books open around him as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on with the two women that were now sleeping under his roof. He sighed to himself, rubbing at his eyes as he went over his notes again.

"What the hell were you thinking, Jack?"

He got up from the bed, cracking his back as he stretched and walked towards the window that overlooked the front of his property. He stared out into the endless night sky, hoping _it _could give him an answer. It didn't, of course. It never did. He gave a short laugh; never stopped him trying though.

His gaze dropped to the front yard; he could see the outline of Jack's truck clearly through the shadows, and his shoulders slumped as he thought back to the last time he'd seen his friend. He should have realised that it was Riley and Dee who'd been working with Dean and Sam, but Jack was never one to put all his cards on the table, he _always_ played things close to his chest. The questions regarding the boys should have tipped him off though. But that was another thing Jack Riley was good at; getting information from people without them realising he was doing just that.

He silently cursed himself; it had all fit perfectly…and he _should _have seen it, but he hadn't. Hindsight was always freakin' twenty-twenty. A month after that incident in Vermont, Jack had turned up unexpectedly, a six-pack in one hand a bottle of whiskey in the other. 'Just passing through', he'd said with grin as he held the whiskey aloft. And _he'd _been so damn happy to see the man, he'd missed the subtle questions hidden within their reminiscing.

They'd finally got around to talking about Cinnamon, and at the mention of her name, Jack's face had lit up and he'd seen the love the man had for his daughter shining from his eyes. Jack had taken a photo from his wallet and passed it to him, a grin plastered to his face; _'Now don't tell me she's not the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.' _It had been the first time Bobby had seen a photo of her and there was no doubt she was Jack's daughter; but his eyes were drawn to a person lounging on the porch behind Jack and Cinnamon. _'Well?' _Jack had asked.

Bobby had smiled and nodded at his friend; she _was _beautiful, but he couldn't drag his eyes from the other woman and he'd finally asked Jack who she was. And that was when the past had rushed up and punched him in the gut.

Dee Richardson.

He'd hidden his shock, resting his forearms on his knees in an effort to stop the trembling in his fingers as he studied the woman in the photo. Jack's acknowledgment that Dee was English, was the final confirmation that this was who he thought she was. _This _was the little girl from almost thirty years ago. He knew it. Two girls…well one girl and an unborn child, separated decades ago when evil had lurked around them; who'd wound up on the opposite sides of the world, had met again. And this time, they'd joined forces.

He didn't like it. Didn't like it at all.

What were the chances of Riley and Dee not only meeting up, but becoming hunting partners? A million to freakin' one, that's what. So it had been _his _turn to hide _his _questions about Dee as he got Jack to tell stories about his daughter. The two men playing each other, garnering information for their own ends as they drank into the early morning hours.

He'd tried to subtly steer Jack into having Riley hunt with him, father/daughter bonding and all, but Jack had adamantly refused; saying that Riley was good for Dee and vice versa. Dee was the steadying voice and firm hand that kept a tight reign on Riley's penchant for 'adventure'…or rather, '_mis_adventure'; while Riley seemed to be the compass that navigated Dee through her stoic detachment and directed her towards an indulgence for life. They were the closer than sisters. Jack had shaken his head with a laugh and told him that he sometimes thought a higher power had put the two of them together as a way to keep the other alive.

Bobby didn't doubt it. Only thing was, he was sure he and Jack had a different idea as to who that 'higher power' was. And now, here they were, in his house and with his boys. He had to step _very _carefully; he'd stepped in thirty years ago to save the unborn child of his friend and had ended up orphaning another.

He'd thought that had been the end of it. Something he could put behind him and forget about forever. He'd been wrong.

He still didn't know how Jack had found out he'd had a daughter; he'd just said he'd been travelling and stumbled across Virginia. He'd told Bobby he'd known Riley was his from the moment he'd seen her. And when Bobby had reminded him about how Virginia had tried to deceive him; Jack had smiled that smile he always did, reminding _him _that they'd put a stop to that. What had happened between him and Ginny had had nothing to do with the bewitchment; Riley was proof of that.

Bobby turned from the window; Riley was proof of something alright. She had Dean all turned around, inside out and back-to-front; the boy wasn't _himself _around her. And Dean had put his hands on him when he thought he'd disrespected her; and the Dean _he _knew would never do that. Not to him. He _knew _Dean was fiercely protective of those he loved, Sam was living proof of that. But he'd hunted with this woman, what? Twice? He didn't know her, and there was no way in _hell _he was in love with her. This was something else.

He gathered the books from the bed and put them on the table; switching off the lamp and falling fully clothed onto his bed. This was something else entirely and he was pretty sure he knew what it was. He'd been wrong all those years ago, and he'd been wrong in thinking that Dee was the protagonist in this.

Isobel Richardson had said Riley was marked; and he believed she'd meant marked for sacrifice. A sacrifice he thought he'd prevented by killing the woman.

He'd been wrong. Wrong about so many things.

He was beginning to think that Riley _was _marked, but not the way he'd initially thought. He sighed as the weight of Isobel's death came back to hit him full-force; she'd been right, he _had _condemned a child. Dee. _She _was the innocent in all this and she had _no _idea of what her friend was capable…or of the evil that lurked inside her. He'd seen the innocence in Dee's eyes all those years ago, an innocence he was sure was _never _in Jack's daughter. He'd killed the wrong woman.

Riley wasn't going to be the sacrifice to awaken _Her; _she was much more important than that.

Cinnamon Riley would become the High Priestess of _Her _order …and she would drag Dean, Sam and Dee into the depths with her.

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_Sam drifted slowly through a sea of darkness; a seemingly unending void of black that held a cold menace to it. He could hear a faint whisper floating around him but couldn't make out the words; it was just a soft, sibilant hiss that seemed to taunt him from the depths of the bleak shadows._

_He turned his head, trying to figure out where he was – he __**knew**__ this was a dream, knew that he was back at Bobby's sleeping on a mattress on the floor, Dee crashed on the bed on the other side of the room – so how could he know this __**was **__a dream? And how could he have conscious thought if he was dreaming?_

_And what the __**hell **__was being whispered to him?_

_He turned his head and saw a lightening of the shadows…and he was moved towards it. He tried to dig his heels in, to stop the unfaltering propulsion towards the now twisting eddy of light and dark. He didn't want to go there, didn't want to see whatever it was behind the churning curtain; but he was a passenger in this nightmare, nothing more._

_He felt a tightening at his wrists and looked down just in time to see dark tendrils pull his arms behind his back; the same dark tendrils he was sure now held his ankles. He opened his mouth to yell but no sound came out; he was a silent witness here. His mind was roaring in rage, but it was a roar that never reached his lips. It echoed around his enraged mind, a mind that didn't understand what was happening…a mind that was __**vulnerable. **__And a mind that now had no choice but to watch. Watch and listen._

_He flinched as his eyes were hit with sudden light; the jolt from inky darkness, causing him to involuntarily gasp. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to get them to adjust to the explosive brilliance. _

_The picture in front of him slowly came into focus; he could see a small field of lush green grass surrounded by a low stone wall; a large tree in one corner of the field, its branches weeping towards the ground. And hanging from one of the branches was a wooden swing, two small, jean-clad legs swaying back and forth. He could see nothing more through the leaves, only enough to know that it was a child. _

_His eyes were drawn to the figure of a woman…an elderly woman, who walked from behind a small house and towards the tree. Her gait was slow, her steps somewhat hesitant as she made her way over to the child. _

_Before Sam knew what was happening, he was standing beside the woman; the sudden launch of his mind as it shot forward, making him slightly nauseous. And as much as he wanted to look at the woman at his side, his eyes were glued to the foliage that separated him from the child. He saw a hand enter his periphery, the slight trembling of fingers as they brushed against the weeping leaves, causing him to frown. _

_His heart began to beat wildly in his chest, the binds that held him in place, no longer registering as he was solely focussed on who lay behind the green curtain. The branch was pushed slowly aside; the reveal, an almost painful unmasking of the main player in this production._

_He now heard the slow creak of the old ropes that held the swing; it sounded like the aching of old bones in the otherwise still day. The child, a girl, had her head down, her dark red hair hanging limply past her shoulders and shielding her face; her feet kicking aimlessly as they scuffed out a gash in the grass. _

_His blood ran cold as he watched the child's head slowly rise then turn lazily, yet purposefully, towards them. He felt butterflies rise in a rush through him and goose-bumps rise all over his skin as the small face met his. _

_He stared into sea-green eyes that seemed devoid of emotion, __**flat **__eyes. He frowned as he began to notice a …familiarity about the face. The girl couldn't have been older than four or five, but there was something about the shape of her nose, the curve of her brow that stirred a vague recognition._

'_C-come in for lunch…' the old woman stuttered. _

_Sam could hear the fear in the elderly voice, and he understood it. Those eyes; those silent, unblinking eyes whose gaze never once wavered; those indifferent eyes that seemed to reach into you, scrutinise you til you __**had **__to look away. But __**he **__couldn't. He was trapped within that gaze; and he wanted nothing more than to flee. But as he continued to look at the girl, he began to see something behind the cold eyes. Pain. A pain so deep, it __**changed **__you. _

_He knew that kind of pain. Sometimes you survived it, sometimes you didn't. And it looked like this little girl hadn't. He heard the woman leave his side and his stomach dropped. It was only him and the girl now and he didn't want to be the sole focus of her attention. _

_He felt cold fingers wrap around his throat and his head was lowered, his face pulled painstakingly towards her. He felt her hot breath push against his face, his eyes inches from hers and recognition slapped him in the face. _

'_Dies iræ, dies illa. Solvet sæclum in favilla. Teste…' __came the small squeak of the voice; a ghost of a smile almost reaching her lips._

_He winced as diaphanous fingers squeezed painfully at his throat, slowly cutting off the supply of oxygen. _'_Dies iræ, dies illa. Solvet sæclum in favilla. Teste…' the voice scoured into him again. __He couldn't struggle, he was bound hand and foot to this place, and his vision was starting to cloud around the edges as he stared helplessly into those lifeless eyes. He began to see bright flashes spear through the dark spots in front of his eyes and he prepared to die… there was nothing but death in those green orbs..._

_His sudden release was almost shocking as the ethereal suffocation; and his head swam as oxygen raced around his body again. He shook it off, not wanting to be any more vulnerable around the girl than he could help._

_He blinked when he saw a man dressed in military uniform step into his field of vision and crouch in front of the girl, a hand going to the rope to stop her swinging. Now he understood. __**That **__was why he'd been released. Her focus had shifted. _

'_You frightened you grandma," he man said sternly. "We've spoken about this. You need to control what's happening inside you. I won't have it. Not in my house and not on my watch, soldier.'_

_The girl said nothing, just stared at the man in front of her._

'_Your mother's gone and she's __**not **__coming back. If it weren't for us, you'd have no one. Remember that.'_

_She cocked her head; another ghostly smile playing around her lips as she began her swing again; her right hand moving up and saluting the man in front of her; her eyes rising slowly to Sam's..._

_He was yanked backwards; an invisible rope wrapped tightly round him as he was dragged back into the darkness and shown another sight; this one of his brother, lying on a bed, his eyes closed and his throat covered in blood. _

_He opened his mouth to scream; scream his brother's name and this time he heard it. A painful howl of loss that echoed round the dark void and smashed into him with unrelenting force. _

_He was dragged from that scene and into the shadows again; the whispered words he'd been unable to hear when he'd first entered this void, now singing into his horror filled mind…_

'_Cross your heart and hope to die…' a sinful giggle scouring into his psyche 'You tell…and …' the giggle attacked him again….'Cross __**my **__heart and hope __**Dean **__dies…'_

Sam woke, a scream caught in his throat as he felt a hand shaking his shoulder. His eyes snapped open and he gasped, recoiling from the sea-green eyes that were mere inches from his. The same eyes that had held him captive in the dream.

"Jesus, you alright Sam?" asked Dee.

He nodded and tried to settle his raspy breathing; "Yeah, fine, fine," he gave a small laugh to cover his disquiet.

She sat back on her heels and cocked her head at him; "Must've been a hell of a nightmare." She laughed softly and piqued an eyebrow at him., "You didn't wet yourself did you, old son?"

Sam rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his damp hair, letting out a false laugh; 'Screw you, Dee."

"Sorry, Sam. You're not my type," she grinned as she headed back to her bed. "But I won't tell your brother you scream like a girl in your sleep." She put her finger to her chest as she grinned again, "Cross my heart and hope to die."

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Riley smiled in her sleep as she nestled against Dean, his arms tightening around her as he mumbled her name. His body was warm against hers and she felt a peacefulness come over her as she heard her name whispered again and again, the lulling repetition of it dragging her into a deep state of sleep.

She was in dark place; there was no light whatsoever, but she could feel a deep rumbling coming from underneath her and a growl that began to sound around her, getting louder and louder. She was overcome with a deep sense of fear, fear like nothing she'd ever felt before, and she began to shake.

She blinked her eyes as her vision started to clear and she flinched as she saw scenery flashing past her eyes at alarming speed. She couldn't see everything just yet, and she was starting to think that maybe she didn't want to; but it was like looking through a tunnel. Everything was black around the edges, allowing only a small circle of viewing.

She shook her head as she began to hear words muttered next to her, desperate sounding words that held no meaning to her. She didn't want to turn her head, but she had no control. She tried to resist the slow, steady creak of her head as it drifted towards the words; but it was no use. She saw the dark-grey of what could only be a dashboard and then the black arm of a steering column; her sight floated upwards and her fear skyrocketed as she saw blood spattered hands gripping the steering wheel, the knuckles straining against the skin.

She felt her arms tighten around something soft, the brushing of something furry against her cheek…and a smell that seemed waft through her nose and bring a sense of calm to her. She heard another voice whisper softly through her mind, a child's voice…_'George…George…George…'_, a rhythmic mantra that had an almost hypnotising effect on her.

Her vision started to close in on her and another voice began to break through the whispered mantra; a jumble of words that didn't make any sense to her. It was like listening to a cd with a bad scratch on it…she was missing half the lyrics. But fear rushed through her as she saw that bloodied hand reach into the last remaining scrap of her vision and pat gently at her knee…_'….be afraid…..hurt you….now…now….be afraid….be afraid….'_

The darkness closed in on her and opened again like a slow shutter click, and her heart began to race madly in her chest, fear charging through her as Dean's face slowly appeared in front of her. His eyes were closed but there was blood covering his throat…and blood on the pillow underneath his head. Fear now had a stranglehold on her as she saw those same hands, the ones from the truck, placed over Dean's throat…

Her eyes snapped open, a scream caught in her own throat as she was torn from the nightmare, her body jerking as she struggled to keep the scream inside. She turned her head quickly, letting out a shaky breath as she saw Dean next to her, a dream-filled smile on his face as he pulled her against him.

"You alright?" he mumbled in a half-sleep.

"Yeah…I just …that falling dream, you know?" she lied.

"Hate those," he whispered as his lips brushed against her forehead. "I'll …catch you…" he mumbled as sleep claimed him again.

She rested her head against his chest, the sound of his heart beating steadily underneath her, calming her. She waited til her heart-beat slowed to match his before slipping out of his arms. She went to the bathroom across the hall from her room and locked the door behind her. Going to the sink, she turned the cold water on, splashing it on her face ...and ignoring the slight tremble in her hands.

She raised her face to the mirror, she didn't like the look that haunted her eyes…or the dark circles that sat underneath them. She turned her head, putting her fingers to the broken skin, a small smile forming on her lips as she remembered how she got the bite marks. Dean.

Her heart began to beat wildly again. Dean was in trouble, something was coming for him. She shook her head as the image of those blood-spattered hands rose in front of her eyes. She had to figure out who those hands belonged to…and kill them before they killed Dean.

She wet a cloth and cleaned the blood that had dried around her neck. She peed, washed her hands and face again before heading back to the bedroom. Dean was crashed on his stomach, his back shining in the soft moonlight that filtered through the room. She dressed quickly, her eyes constantly flicking to him to make sure he was still asleep. She ripped a piece of paper from her journal and scribbled a note to him and propped it on the chest-of-drawers near the door for him to find when he woke.

She stepped quietly to the bed and ran a gentle hand over his forehead and through his hair, smiling as he did. She leaned down and brushed her lips against his…

"Riley…" he mumbled.

"Shhh, go back to sleep…" she whispered, but he was already there.

She grabbed her bag and threw it over her shoulder as she walked quietly to the door. She opened it, casting one last glance back at Dean. She didn't want to leave, but she knew if she didn't find the owner of those hands…she didn't want to think about it what that meant. She couldn't risk Dean coming with her. She wouldn't. And Dee wouldn't let her go if she told her; and Sam needed to be here to protect his brother. No, she had to do this on her own.

She had a place to start; she'd seen the name of a motel when she'd been in the truck with those hands. It was the same name of a motel they'd passed on their way here.

She looked at her watch as she threw her bag into the passenger seat of her truck; 4:19am. If she drove like she normally did, she could be there in five hours. She released the handbrake and guided the slowly moving truck through the property; not starting the engine til she was far enough away so as not to wake anyone.

She didn't notice the eyes that watched from the upstairs window, or see the smile that whispered from the shadows.

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Sam felt the first stirrings of wakefulness creep up on him and he blinked rapidly, using the sigil above him to focus his mind and bring him into full consciousness. He raised his hand and looked at his watch; 6:39am. He turned his head; Dee was asleep on her side, her hand tucked under her pillow as the other dangled off the bed.

He sat up slowly, grabbed his jeans and threw them on, slipped his t-shirt over his head and eased the door to his room open, slipping through and closing it quietly behind him. He went to the bathroom before making his way downstairs. He wasn't surprised he was the only awake at this time; Dean _rarely _got up before eight if he could help it, and with Riley sleeping in with his brother…yeah, he wouldn't be seeing _either _of them for a while yet.

He put coffee on and turned to footsteps behind him; "Morning, Bobby," he smiled.

"You're up early," grumbled Bobby as he went to the cupboard.

Sam smiled to himself; Bobby was _not _a morning person. He was like an angry bear until he'd had at least two cups of coffee. He watched on, amused, as Bobby muttered to himself as he made his way through his early morning ritual; checking the salt-lines at all the doors and windows as he waited impatiently for the coffee to brew.

"You sleep okay?" Bobby asked as he came back to the kitchen.

"Fine, you know I always sleep well when I'm here," Sam lied as he passed the man a coffee. "You?"

"Got a lot on my mind," he replied as he leant against the sink, sighing as the first sip of hot coffee slid down his throat.

"Bobby, it's just you and me here now, you want to let me in on what it is that bothering you?"

Bobby didn't say anything for a long time, but Sam waited him out. He knew when to push Bobby and when not to. This was a _'when not to' _time.

Bobby finally looked Sam in the eye; "Tell me, Sam, how much do you really know about Cinnamon?"

Sam laughed softly as he shook his head; "Bobby, you'd better start calling her Riley, she _hates _being called Cinnamon."

"You gonna answer my question?"

Sam sighed; "I don't know. She was brought up in Australia by her mom until Jack arrived, then he was the one that looked after her and taught her to hunt." He grinned; "You should see her throw a dagger, Bobby. She can hit almost impossible targets…"

"I'm not surprised," Bobby interrupted, "blades were Jack's specialty. What else?"

"Shit, I don't know. She can be a bit reckless but I'm kinda used to being around that. But when I told you we trusted her, we meant it." He paused, "Why the hell don't you like her?"

"It's not that I don't like her, Sam. It's that I don't _trust _her."

"You don't _know _her."

"I knew her mother, that's enough."

Sam frowned; "What the hell are you talking about?"

Bobby leaned forward; "You listen to me, and you listen _well, _Sam. She…" he jabbed a finger towards upstairs, "…is not who you think she is. You notice how your brother behaves differently around her? He's not himself and I know you see it, Sam. You know Dean better than anyone." Sam said nothing as Bobby stared at him. "Something's going on here and it's centred around _her. _You need to take your brother aside and _speak _to him, get him away from her until I figure it out."

Sam laughed softly; "That's gonna be easier said than done, Bobby. They can't…" he shook his head; "Anyway. Look, Riley's not a threat, especially to Dean…" he hesitated, wondering whether he should tell Bobby where _his _fear lay. He needed an ally right now, and at the moment, Bobby was the only one he had. "I think…" he took a deep breath, "I think the …threat may be coming from some…"

"You _do _as I say, Sam!" Bobby interrupted angrily. "I'm not fucking around!"

"Jesus, Bobby! Calm down!" He put his cup on the table and stepped towards the man. "You need to listen to _me, _now. You're right, something's going on here, I don't know what it is…but I don't think it's Riley…"

"Bullshit, " angered Bobby. He turned from Sam and threw the rest of his coffee down the sink. His eyes flicked outside and he frowned when he saw that Jack's truck was missing. "_Shit!"_

"What? What is it?" asked Sam as he felt fear starting to swirl in his belly.

"Her goddamn _truck's _missing!"

Sam went to the window and saw the empty space between the Impala and the Landy, and his heart lurched; "Dean…"

He turned and ran towards the stairs; he took them three at a time, his heart beating so furiously he thought it would burst through his chest. The words from his dream screaming through his mind…_'You tell…and …cross __**my **__heart and __**Dean **__dies…'_

And he'd told.

He ran to his brother's room, the sound of Bobby's boots echoing loudly behind him. He flung the door open; stopping at the sight that greeted him.

"DEAN!" he yelled, running to his brother side.

"Jesus Christ Almighty…" Bobby muttered as he moved to the other side of the bed. The pillows underneath Dean's head were covered in dried blood; the same dried blood that covered the boy's throat. He put shaky fingers to Dean's throat and sighed audibly when he felt a strong pulse beneath them. "He's alive, Sam. Get the medi-kit."

"What the _fuck?" _came a surprised voice from the doorway.

Bobby turned and saw Dee standing in the doorway, her eyes glued to Dean. "Where the fuck is that bitch?" he yelled.

"What?" asked Dee in confusion; a frown forming on her face as she understood what he was implying. She shook her head; "No! No, _way_ was this Riley."

"She's gone, Dee! And look what she left!" said Bobby, he turned to Sam who was talking quietly to his brother. "Medi-kit! Go!"

"I'll get it," said Dee, her voice now in business-mode. "Where?"

Bobby turned to her; "Bathroom cabinet, top shelf. Go!"

Dee looked at Dean then to Bobby; "This wasn't Riley. I _know _it. She wouldn't _do _this."

"GO!" Sam yelled.

Dee turned, noticing a piece of paper with Dean's name on it, propped up against a book. She pocketed it as she left the room quickly; a smile forming on her lips as a familiar voice whispered in her ear; yes, it was all working out as planned.

She laughed softly as she whispered to herself; "No, _Riley _wouldn't do this at all."

_**To be continued…**_


	9. Seductions

_(A/N: This chapter is rated for sexual content, language and ...hell, I'll even throw in a 'torture' warning here as well. Now that you've been given the trifecta, read on at your own risk…AJ)_

(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural related; the following story and the characters of 'Riley' and 'Dee' belong to me)

* * *

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Nine.**

_Her body moved slowly against his; soft skin sliding against hard muscle as his fingers tangled in her hair and he crushed his lips against hers. Her tongue danced wickedly with his; a slow, sinful seduction that told of promises to come._

_The ambrosial scent of her that washed over him was like a drug …and he needed another fix. He __**wanted**__ to tease her, to draw it out, make her beg for him; but feeling her against him, her body slick with both his and her sweat, and the soft mewls coming from her… he couldn't._

_Every touch was like fire on his body, every kiss leaving __**him**__ begging for more. Each lick to his lips, each bite to his neck, each whispered 'Mine' in his ear, tied him to her. The scrape of her fingernails down his chest; the strong, gentle stroking of him as she pushed herself against him, making him growl low in his throat._

_Her body, her lips, her tongue, were a weapon for which he had no defence; he was completely at her mercy …and he blissfully surrendered._

_He didn't protest when she tied his wrists to the bed frame; he moaned. He pushed his body towards her, not wanting __**any **__space between them; but she pulled back, keeping her body inches from his. Just close enough to feel the heat of her, nothing more. _

_Her body was stretched above his, her breasts a teasing brush against his chest; and as her tongue stole over his lips, his breath caught in lustful anticipation. She lowered her head, her lips skimming over his before moving to his ear; "__**Mine," **__she murmured again, biting him gently. Her lips trailed down his neck, a bite followed by a soothing kiss as her lips whispered over his throat. Her hair trailed down his chest, following the carnal trail left by her tongue as she moved down; his muscles fluttering under her touch as he gripped the metal posts at his head._

_He groaned as she moved past him; her hot breath sighing past with teasing promises as her soft locks trickled over him. But it wasn't her hair he wanted around him, and he grunted his frustration. She raised a finger to his lips to quiet him, but he sucked it into his mouth, letting her know __**exactly **__what he wanted. _

_He moaned in frenzied rapture when she finally gave in to his pleas; his head jerking from side to side as she teased him, bringing him close again and again before backing off. He was begging for release, a release he knew she wouldn't give him, not yet. _

_He was straining at his binds, the muscles in his arms and shoulders rippling under the pressure to be free. He __had __to have his hands on her, he had to __**have **__her. He gasped as her lips left him, a low, guttural growl escaping him as her body slid seductively up his. Her lips hovered over his and he raised his head, wanting them, __**needing **__them – but she pulled back, smiling as she finally claimed him._

_He threw his head back, arching his back as he bucked underneath her, begging her to untie him; but she shook her head, her hands closing over his and holding him in place as she relentlessly teased him. _

_Her lips whispered over his again, her tongue pushing tantalisingly against his before quickly retreating; her lips tracing kisses along is jaw to the spot, just behind his ear that drove him wild. He couldn't take it anymore, and he __**begged **__to be freed; whispering vows of raw intent, fiery promises if she just untied him; his tongue licking at her lips in ravenous entreaty._

_An animalistic moan escaped his lips as he felt the binds loosened; his hands finally on the body that awakened an engulfing craving in him. He pulled her lips hard against his, growling as his tongue fought for dominance over hers; her body now tight against his. He tore her fingers from his hair, his hands enclosing hers as he flipped her onto her back, his weight holding __**her**__ down now. _

'_My turn,' he whispered; pinning her hands above her head as his lips teased over hers; 'Now __**you **__beg for __**me, **Riley...__'_

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Bobby made his slow way up the stairs; his mind working overtime as he tried to process everything that had happened since _she'd _arrived…and fled. He'd followed the tracks left by Riley's truck, but after she'd high-tailed it off his property…he shook his head with a sigh; he had no goddamn idea where she'd gone. The truck had turned east, but that was all he knew. And as he had no idea what time she'd left, she could be damn well _anywhere._

The bitch wasn't answering her phone either, not even when he used Dean's cell, but he wasn't surprised. Why would she? She'd almost killed Dean, the last thing she was gonna do was answer her phone. He silently cursed himself; he should have seen this coming, but again, he'd made a mistake. He'd believed the boys were safe under his roof, but he should have realised that Dean wouldn't have seen her coming. The boy was blind where she was concerned…and so were Sam and Dee. He would have to work subtly to bring them around to his way of thinking. To bring them round to the truth. 

He took a deep breath before walking into the room; time to talk to Sam. 

Sam was sitting next to the bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped underneath his chin; the worry shining brightly from his eyes as they watched his brother's face intensely.

"How's he doing?" Bobby asked softly.

Sam dragged his eyes from his brother and turned to Bobby; "He's having a great time," he said, motioning to the bulge under the blanket that covered Dean. "And I'm more than a little uncomfortable." He sighed as he rose and went to the window, jamming his hands into his pockets as he stared out; "I've checked the wounds again, Bobby," he said softly, shaking his head as he watched Dee at the Landy, checking her weapons again and again; she was like a goddamn robot. He turned from the scene outside; "It doesn't make any _sense. _He _should _be awake."

"The …wounds were…"

"_Bite_ marks, Bobby. You saw what they were," started Sam, his eyes flicking to his brother as Dean moaned low in his throat. He ignored the blissful smile that accompanied the moan and stared into Bobby's eyes as he debated over whether to tell Bobby his thoughts on what he believed may have happened. "I don't think…"

"Stop right there, Sam," intoned Bobby as he raised his hand, putting his back to Dean; that was _one _thing he didn't care to see. "You've _seen _the mess Dean's neck's in. I don't care _how _kinky your brother is, _no one _asks for that. She damn near ripped his throat out!"

Sam glanced back to his brother, shaking his head at thesmile that sat on Dean's lips. He looked back to Bobby; "Yeah, yeah…I know. But Bobby, you haven't _seen _them together…"

"I've seen _enough."_

He shook his head; it was time to put it out there. Dean had already been hurt, and he was here to protect him; he wouldn't leave his brother's side. Not for a minute. "No. There was too much blood for it to be just his…I think…maybe some of its Riley's." It was his turn to raise his hand; "Just hear me out, I ….Jesus, I can't believe I'm saying this," he muttered. He sighed again; "I think that maybe things just… got a little…out of hand…and…and…" he stammered.

Bobby stepped towards Sam, pure fury on his face; "You don't _run _if things just get a _little out of hand, _Sam. She knew what she was doing. She tried to _kill_ your brother, so you _listen _to me. That…_girl _…is not right. _None _of you realise what you're dealing with here…"

"And you do?" Sam interrupted; his anger rising with Bobby's. "If you know something, Bobby, damn well _tell _me! You've done nothing but dodge our questions and lie to us…"

"_I've _lied? Why the hell didn't you _tell _me you were hunting with them?"

"For Christ's sake, Bobby! We're _not _hunting with them! We stumbled across them in Vermont and if we _hadn't _stuck together, the four of us would be dead!" he paused "Well, Dee and Riley would be dead. Me and Dean?" he laughed hollowly "We'd be tearing the world a new one right about now!"

"Is that right?" Bobby laughed.

"You bet your ass. And the _only _reason we met up again in Nevada was because that yellow-eyed bastard _wanted _us to. He killed Jack in front of me and Dean for no other reason than getting Riley and Dee there." He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him; "And that came back to bite him on the ass." He looked directly into his friend's eyes; "You see, Riley stabbed him, Bobby," he nodded at Bobby's incredulous look. "That's right. And she saved me from Lilith, so when I _tell _you she wouldn't hurt Dean, I mean it."

Bobby anger boiled over and he grabbed Sam by the front of his shirt and yanked him towards his brother. He pulled at the bandage around Dean's throat; "Look at that and tell me again if you think she won't hurt him!" He glared at Sam as the boy shrugged out of his grasp; "What's _wrong _with you, Sam? How can you defend her after she did that to your brother? Dean never saw her coming and look what she did to him!" he hissed. "And you're gonna let her get away with it?" he shook his head in disgust.

Sam sighed as he gazed at his brother's bruised and broken throat; the open wounds still seeped blood and there wasn't a piece of skin that wasn't turning an ugly shade of purple. If the bites had been any deeper, Dean would have bled out; his brother would be dead. And why _had _Riley done a runner? If she hadn't meant to hurt Dean, then why run? 

He pushed all thoughts of last night's dream from him and slumped in the chair next to the bed. He looked at Dean's neck,"Tell me what you know…" he whispered. "Then I'll find her and kill her myself."

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Riley opened the door to her room at the 'Blue Flamingo Motel', she threw her bag onto the bed, shrugged out of her jacket and went to the bathroom. She removed the scarf from around her neck, wincing as the fabric stuck to the wounds. Shit. Instead of getting better, they were getting worse. She put her fingers gingerly to the bite marks and inspected them as best she could. She went and retrieved the medi-kit from her bag and put antiseptic powder on them. That'd have to do for now. 

She went back to the room, grabbed a small bottle of scotch from the mini bar and sculled it quickly. She closed her eyes as the liquid burnt pleasantly down her throat. She looked at her watch; no, 9.45 in the morning wasn't too early to drink, she thought with ahollow laugh. 

She looked up to a knock at the door and checked the pistol at the small of her back; she went to the window and looked through the curtain, a smile forming on her lips. Looked like the receptionist had come through; the young woman was standing at the door with an old man that looked like he would blow over in a light wind. 

"Just a second!" she called out. She grabbed a high-necked sweater from her bag and slipped it over her t-shirt, checking to make sure the wounds to her neck were completely covered. She went to the door and put a winning smile on her face as she opened it.

"Well that was quick, Carlie," Riley smiled.

The receptionist grinned at Riley, "My pop loves to tell stories, don't you Pop?" she elbowed the elderly man at her side.

"Humph," he grunted as he inspected Riley quickly.

"Excuse him, Layla, if he isn't dosed up on coffee, he gets…" started Carlie.

"Pissed," stated the old man.

Riley laughed, "I hear ya," she opened the door wide, "Lets see if we can't fix that, Mr…."

"Frank," he said as he pushed past her. "Off you trot, Carlie. Don't need you hangin' round watching me all goddamn day," he grumbled as he sat down at the table. "Black, no sugar."

Riley laughed softly to herself; she loved cranky old bastards. She turned to Carlie, "He'll be fine with me, Carlie. Kinda reminds me of my gramps," she turned to Frank, "He was a pain in the arse as well," she said with a grin.

Frank raised an eyebrow, "Black, no _sugar."_

"On it," laughed Riley.

"I'm sorry, Layla…" started Carlie. "He…"

Riley shook her head, "Don't apologise, I'm just glad you knew someone that could help me."

Carlie smiled; "Puh-lease, anything to get him out from underfoot," she whispered conspiratorially. 

"I can _hear _you!" 

"Alright, alright, Pop. Behave yourself, okay?" He grunted his reply as he looked around the room. "Don't snoop, Pop," instructed Carlie as she rolled her eyes at Riley. "Sorry," she smiled apologetically. "So, you promise to send me a copy of your story once you're done?"

"Cross my heart," said Riley. "And I'll bring him back…hopefully, in one piece."

"Black, no _sugar!" _

Riley laughed as she shut the door on Carlie's pained expression. She made coffee for the both of them, grabbed a notepad and pen from her duffel bag before sitting opposite Frank. 

"What's yer name, girlie?" Frank asked as he slurped his coffee.

"Layla Clapton," said Riley as she stuck out her hand.

He shook it and gave her a slow nod; "So, tell me _Layla Clapton, _why does a freelance journalist carry a pistol at her back?"

Riley raised an eyebrow, "To take care of cranky old bastards if they ask too many questions," she said with a smile.

"Ayuh," he nodded as he leaned forward, "Tell you what, I'll answer your questions, on a couple of conditions."

"Is that right?" 

"Sure is," he sipped at his coffee, "I have something you want…" he said as he sat back in his chair and studied her. A smile formed on his lips; "I'll scratch your back, you scratch mine."

Riley cocked her head at the old man; "You better mean that metaphorically, Frank, because my _'ewww-o-meter' _just went into overdrive."

Frank laughed; it was a deep throaty laugh that rumbled from deep within him and Riley couldn't help but smile. "You normally this rude to people you want help from?"

Riley grinned; "No, I'm usually worse." She went and got a bottle of scotch from her bag and sat back down; "Now spill, old timer."

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Dee sat at the back of the Landy cleaning her Browning 9mm with a studied calm. And studied it was. She was _seething _inside. Everything was going to shit. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and she turned, looking up and spying Sam at the window watching her, a thoughtful expression on his face before he stepped away. Yeah, she knew that look. And there was no way in _hell _she was going to let those bastards get to Riley. No. She'd sort this out. Something was wrong with her friend and if _anyone _was going to fix it, it was going to be her.

She put the Browning down beside her and grabbed her sniper rifle; she disassembled it without looking and began to rigorously clean it. She knew that both Sam and Bobby thought Riley had done that to Dean, but she _knew _her friend; there was no way Riley had. She was capable of it, yes…hell, Riley had a mean-streak in her that rivalled some demons she'd dealt with; but it only showed itself on _very_ rare occasions. Ninety-nine percent of the time, Riley was a wise-cracking, smart-arse with a penchant for trouble and who was laid-back to the point of unconsciousness…but it was that one percent that always worried Dee.

She reassembled her rifle, checked it, and disassembled it again as she began her cleaning ritual…again. That one percent. That _goddamn _one percent! How the hell was she going to convince Sam and Bobby that Riley hadn't done this? Dean had seen that side of Riley when they'd been in Vermont; but he'd sided with her, saying she'd had no choice, their survival had depended on it. But _Sam _had been the one that it _hadn't _sat well with. _He'd _been the one that had been pissed at what Riley had done. Always believing there had to have been another way to deal with it. 

And now this. There was no way he'd believe her. 

She slammed the rifle down on the floor of the Landy and put her hands to her head, rubbing at the temples as the start of a headache began to pulse painfully. She took a deep breath, _breathe through it, Dee, _she ordered herself as she squeezed her eyes shut; _breathe through it. _

She turned as she felt the Landy lower a little and smiled as she looked into his face; her headache fading into distant memory. Another smile graced her lips as his fingers brushed gently down her cheek, his hands cupping her face and bringing her lips to his. 

Her heart was racing as her fingers traced up his muscular chest, whispered around his nape and pulled his full-lips harder to hers. She shivered as his tongue danced against hers, his hands slipping seductively down her sides, his thumbs teasing her breasts as they tantalisingly passed, before digging into her hips and pulling her against him. 

His lips grazed along her jaw, a teasing caress as they worked their sweet way towards her ear; making promises to her if she would just listen. And as his tongue skimmed delicately over her ear, she knew she could do nothing but.

His hands worked their magic on her as his words sighed seductively into her psyche; he _knew _how to tease her, knew that when he nipped gently at her ear, when his hands cupped her breasts, his fingers teasing her…that she would surrender completely to him. _He_ knew her like no other.

She didn't notice the pistol digging into herspine as he pushed her back, all she knew was his familiar weight pressed against her. His body fit perfectly against hers, it always had. She arched her back as he ground against her, dictating her next move as he delivered his body in bewitching persuasion. 

She clung to him; her hands moving over _every _part of him; savouring every moment spent with him. He was more than a yearning memory, more than an aching loss she'd lived with ever since her heart had been torn out that fatefully hated day. The day she'd died inside. 

But he was here now and everything would be alright…as long as she _listened _to him. She couldn't deny him, she'd never been able to; and she sealed her promise with a searing kiss, completely and utterly lost to him.

She gasped; sitting up quickly as her fingers went to her lips, a small frown creasing her brow as she tried to slow her racing heart. Damn, she could have _sworn _she'd felt the beginnings of a headache…maybe that short lie-down she'd taken, had been all she'd needed to push past it. She picked up her rifle and began to clean it; she really _did _need to keep on top of her weapons. She hadn't cleaned her rifle in _months. _

She cocked her head, a smile forming on her lips….and she'd be needing her rifle real soon.

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Bobby was pacing thebedroom of the cabin as he tried to figure out the best way to approach this with Sam and Dee. He glanced at them and ignored the identical frustrated expressions they both wore.

"So, is this actually _going _anywhere, Bobby? Or are we just here to judge you on your runway walk?" asked Dee as she lit a smoke.

"Did I say you could smoke in here?" Bobby asked angrily as he stopped his pacing.

"Didn't say I couldn't," said Dee, giving him a short smile. "Now, you were saying?"

"He _wasn't,_" said Sam angrily.

Bobby leaned back against thewindow,crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at the two people in front of him; both of them wanting answers to questions he couldn't be completely truthful about. His eyes flicked to the sleeping and smiling form of Dean before returning to Sam and Dee.

"You two are going to have to listen to what I tell you and you're _going _to believe me," he put up his hand as they both opened their mouths. "I said _listen."_

Dee raised her hand…and waited.

"_What?" _Bobby asked with exasperation when she said nothing.

Dee grinned as she lowered her hand; "Will there be a question and answer session once you're finished your tutorial, Professor?"

Sam hid a laugh beneath a cough, looking away from Bobby's glare. "Dee, come on, this is serious…"

"Ya think?" angered Bobby. "How 'bout we ask Dean how serious this is?" He nodded as the laughter left their eyes; "Yeah, thought so."

"Well?" asked Sam, and Bobby hesitated.

"How 'bout we start with how you met Jack," said Dee as she dropped her cigarette butt into one of the empty beer bottles that sat on the side-table.

Bobby nodded slowly; "Met him about thirty years ago, we were both hunting a vamp that was in the area," he watched Dee carefully, "Carthage, South Dakota." Dee remained expressionless and he didn't know whether that was a good or a bad thing. "Anyways, we destroyed the nest…Jack saved my life that night. He'd been hunting a lot longer than I had…"

"Hang on," started Sam. "Aren't you _older _than Jack?" and Bobby nodded.

"Jack's been trained since he was kid, Sam," said Dee. "Like Riley…and like you and Dean too." She looked at Bobby; "Guess you kinda fell into it, did you?"

Bobby nodded; "But that's no nevermind. Jack and I didn't become hunting partners or anything of the like, he was a loner, but we kept in touch. If he was up this way, he always dropped in…"

"That's touching," said Dee. "But what's this got to do with Riley?"

Bobby took a calming breath as he fought the instinct to slap her. "It was when he was _here, _that he met Riley's mom."

"So?" said Sam as he began tap his feet in frustration. "You're still not _telling _us anything, Bobby. What the hell does Riley's mom have to do with Riley trying to kill Dean?"

"Hold up there, Slick!" said Dee angrily. "Riley didn't do _shit _to your brother…"

Sam turned furious eyes to Dee; "_Bollocks! _Isn't that what you say, Dee?" he returned the glare she was giving him. "Who _else _could it have been? And why the hell'd she run? Huh? You got an answer to _that?"_

"She normally disappear for no reason?" asked Bobby.

"As a matter of fact, _yes._ All the goddamn time! So is this out of character? Not by a fucking long shot! In _fact, _it's so bloody _in _character…"

"SHUT UP!" yelled Sam as he stood, smacking the chair with the back of his knees and sending it crashing to the ground.

Dee was up in a flash, standing toe-to-toe with Sam; "You want to go after her? Is that what you're saying, _Sammy?"_ She laughed; "You do, you have to go through _me _first," she angered.

"She tried to kill Dean! _Look _at him!' he stabbed a finger at his brother, "Riley was the only one with him, Dee! I don't care _what _you say, _she _did this to Dean. Her. No one else. And you _know _I'm right." He laughed; "And it's not like she hasn't done this before right? Remember that dude in Vermont?"

Dee glared, her hands clenching and unclenching rapidly; "She saved your brother's arse, Sam!"

"And now she almost _killed _him! You said yourself something was up with her! Well, guess what? Something _is, _and Dean bore the brunt of it! "

"It couldn't have been anyone else, Dee," said Bobby softly. "You _know _we're right, deep down where it counts, you know we're right."

Dee shook her head; "No, you don't know her like I do…she _wouldn't…" _she protested. "You're wrong."

"Dean's changed, Dee. You said it yourself. And it only happened when he got back with Riley. It's _her," _said Sam earnestly.

"You know her better than anyone, Dee," started Bobby. "Tell us what she'd do, if something's not right with her…."

"We need to know what she'd do," coaxed Sam as he started to see the doubt creep into her eyes.

Dee looked between the two of them and shook her head again; "No."

"I know you don't want to believe it, Dee," said Sam softly, "But if we can find her, then we can help her," he glanced at Bobby who gave him a subtle nod.

"We can, Dee. You want to save her, then we need to know where'd she'd go," said Bobby. "What she'd do? If she's gone…over…."

"Help us help her, Dee," said Sam softly.

Dee slumped in the chair and grabbed a smoke from her packet and lit it, breathing in deep. She looked up at both Sam and Bobby through the veil of expelled smoke; "If Riley's, as you say, 'gone over', " she laughed hollowly, "Then the hunters have just become the hunted."

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Riley looked at Frank; "You're sure?"

"Nah, I'm talking outta my ass," said Frank as he sipped at his scotch. "Of course, I'm goddamn sure. Nothing happens in this shitty town. It was…it still _is _the biggest thing that ever happened in Carthage."

Riley put down her pen and closed the notepad; "You sure he'll talk to me?"

Frank nodded; "Ayuh. He was the investigating officer, he knows more about it than anyone and he _loves _the sound of his own voice." He drained the last of his scotch, "Now I've tol' you everything I know, now you have to do for me," he grinned

Riley sighed dramatically; "Okay, you dirty ol' bastard. Come on, then."

Frank grinned and raised his glass; "You're alright, Layla."

"Yeah, yeah, to know me is to love me…" she stopped as she remembered the last time, the last _person_ she'd said that to.

"You alright?" Frank asked, concern in his voice; despite his disposition...and hers, he liked the woman in front of him. Straight talking and a wicked sense of humour. _And _she didn't treat him like a doddering old fool.

Riley nodded; "Fine."

Frank put his glass down and cocked his head at her; "Look, Layla…" he laughed softly; "Or whatever your real name is, I don't rightly know why this is so important to you, it happened over thirty years ago," he leaned forward, "Trust me when I say that some things are best left in the past."

Riley nodded slowly; "You're right Frank, some things are," she looked him in the eye, "But this isn't one of them."

Frank stood, groaning as his old bones creaked into his stooped frame; "There ain't much I know, Layla, I'm old enough to realise that. But sometimes, learning the truth can do more harm than good."

Riley stood and smiled at the old man; "I hear ya, Frank," she said as she grabbed her bag and packed quickly. "But trust me, when _I _say, that the truth, no matter what it is, is better than living a lie." She threw her bag over her shoulder and headed to the door; "Move your arse, old timer. I haven't got all day," she said with a grin.

"I'm taking your scotch, smart ass," he said as he put the half-empty bottle into his coat.

Riley opened the door and peeked outside; "If your grand-daughter sends the cops after me, I'll kick your arse."

"If my grand-daughter realises I'm actually missing, I'll kick my _own _ass," he grumbled as he pushed past her.

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_He lay at her feet; his lips pressed in obedient servitude against them as he waited for his instructions. He shivered as he felt her fingers snake into his hair, tightening in pleasurable pain as she pulled his head up._

_He kept his eyes lowered; he wouldn't look directly at her until she commanded. He bit down on his lip, drawing blood to stop the yearning moan that begged to be released as she ran a sharpened fingernail down his cheek, opening it wide._

"_Explain to me why one has left the fold?" she hissed._

_He raised his ice-blue eyes to hers; a mesmeric tingling rushing through him when he looked into his mistresses. "I …cannot. The bonds you cast around them should…" he was stopped by a stinging slap that rocked his head sideways and brought another smile to his lips._

_He watched as she swept past him; a bewitching smell of blood, sin and sex lingering over him, and he breathed in deep, drinking her in. His smile widened as she stood in front of the weeping, begging woman that was suspended against the dank rock walls of their lair. _

"_Please….please…I'll do whatever you want. Just please don't hurt me!" _

"_Hurt you?" she crooned; her fingers running gently down the captive's face and trailing over throat. "I'm not going to hurt you," she purred; her fingers now caressing the woman's bare breast. She leaned in, running her tongue along the whimpering woman's jaw and up to her ear; "Oh, no, I'm not going to hurt you," she whispered._

_The woman looked over at the man that knelt naked and bleeding in front of her; and she let loose a sob when she saw the depraved lust in his manic eyes, saw the engorged weapon he would be using against her._

"_No…please, no…" she begged. __She smacked her head against the wall at her back as her ear was bitten painfully, feeling the warmth of her blood trickle down her neck. _

"_No, I won't hurt you…" whispered the woman as she licked at her captive's blood._

_The woman screamed as she felt sharp nails pierce her skin; the slow, agonising push of what felt like acid-dipped knives making their way through her flesh, bringing a soul-wrenching scream from her; a scream that was joined by the rapturous yell of the man._

_The last thing she heard was the breaking of her ribs and the malevolent whisper in her ear…_

"_Hurt you? No. Kill you, yes," she sighed as her hand closed around the woman's still beating heart and ripped it out._

_She turned, holding the heart almost reverently as she watched the organ beat one last time before being still. She turned to her servant, her blood-spattered face an erotic vision as he struggled to his knees and lowered his head to her._

"_Time for the prodigal daughter to return home," she hissed._

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Riley shook her head as she rested her arm on the window of the truck; "You sure you'll be alright?"

Frank patted the concealed bottle of scotch in hiscoat and gave her a wink; "I'll be better than alright. Now you have the directions?"

Riley nodded; "Easy as, Frank. Thanks. Now go in and …" she reached into her pocket and pulled out some cash and handed it to him; "Have a lap-dance on me."

Frank pocketed the money and gave her a smile; "Like I said, Layla. You're alright."

Riley smiled and shook his hand; "It's Riley, Frank. But keep that to yourself."

"Riley," he nodded with a smile.

"Thanks, Frank. Now get, before I change my mind." She looked at the Strip Club she was parked in front of and shook her head with a laugh; "If you have a heart attack, don't blame me."

He grinned at her; "But what a way to go." He nodded at her; "Now _you _get," he said, his face turning serious. "Be careful, Riley, and you heed my words."

She nodded at him, gunned the engine and sped off, smiling to herself as she watched Frank practically skip into the club. And no bloody wonder, that family of his only let him out once a week and _that _was to go to the Senior Citizens Club where the strongest drink they served was root beer. She'd been more than happy to drop him off at a seedy strip club; let the man _live _in his old age.

She pushed her foot down, the truck leaping forward as it sped out of the town. Her stomach fluttering as she headed back the way she'd come, headed back towards Dean. 

The retired cop Frank had told her to speak to lived about two hours shy of Bobby's place. She reached into her pocket and grabbed the scrap of paper on which she'd written the address. She took a left hand curve and headed up into the mountains; her eyes flicked from the road to the paper; okay…she looked back the road and slammed her foot onto the brake, turning the wheel sharply as she tried to avoid the woman standing in the middle of the road smiling at her.

The rest seemed to happen in slow motion; she turned the wheel further, trying to turn into the spin as she pushed down on the accelerator…but it was too late. The truck broke through the guard-rail, teetering for a moment before tipping on its side as it began it's roll down the embankment.

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Dean's eyes snapped open as he was ripped from his dream, _"Riley…" _

_**To be continued…**_


	10. Search & Destroy

(A/N: _Major _kudos to Kes Cross for helping me find 'Dee's voice'. 'Cause seriously, if she hadn't pushed me in the right direction...I'd still be doing rewrites. This chapter is dedicated to her.)

(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural related; the following story and the characters of Riley and Dee belong to me)

* * *

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Ten.**

His heart was pummelling against his chest wall, his breathing coming in short, sharp rasps as he struggled to take control of his body, control of the disorientation that shrouded him. He shook his head; refusing the confusion that was being offered. He would _not _be out of control. Not him.

"Shhh, Dean…easy now…" came the reassuring voice at his side.

"Riley…" he croaked; blinking his eyes slowly as he tried to focus, tried to figure out where he was. He forced his mind outwards; …lying down…soft cotton…naked. Bed. He was in bed. He reached out a hand, finding nothing but empty space. He frowned as the memory of screeching tyres filtered back to him; then the flash of malignant green eyes glaring triumphantly at him. "Riley…" he rasped again, a deeper frown creasing his brow. Something was wrong with Riley.

He started to push himself out of bed, but felt a firm pressure his shoulder as he was forced back. No. He had to get to Riley…before the…the…'eyes' did.

"You're hurt, Dean. You need to rest…"

He shook his head; "Riley…trouble…" He winced at the pain that shot through his throat with every utterance. "Need …help …" he tried to sit up again but was held down more firmly.

"No, you're _staying _put..."

"_No. _Something…wrong…" he stammered. He pushed against the force that was trying to keep him down; "Sam…" he tried to yell; but it came out barely a whisper; his mind now understanding the pressure that was on his throat. He tried to raise his hands, but they were held fast, pinned to the bed at his sides. He blinked rapidly, trying to stop the darkness that was edging into his vision. "Stop…" he ordered, pushing against the pressure on his wrists.

"I _said _you're staying put," came the now menacing whisper.

He raised his eyes to his attacker, his vision swimming as he tried to focus on the body above his; "Help…Riley…"

She lowered her head; "Oh, I'll be helping her alright…" she increased the pressure on his carotid arteries "Now. Go. Back. To. Sleep," she hissed; kneeling all the more harder on his wrists as he tried in vain to struggle against her.

She smiled as his head lolled to the side; "There's a good boy." She moved quickly off Dean and checked his throat; the bruises her fingers would leave would blend in with the ones he already had. Perfect. She placed his arms under the sheets and smoothed the blankets before sitting on the mattress next to him. She studied him with cold detachment, analysing the antagonist before her. He was weak now, easy to subdue…and that's how she had to keep him. At full strength, he'd be a dangerous adversary. _Very _dangerous. But she needed him alive…she wasn't sure why.

She patted his cheek sharply; "Best you stay right where you are, Winchester," she whispered.

Her eyes dropped to his neck; so close to just snapping it…she raised a hand, her fingers whispering over his throat; so close. She lifted her gaze to his face as her fingers grazed one of the wounds at his neck; so close. She blinked as her fingers brushed against the gauze and her hands moved deftly; re-adjusting the bandages to Dean's neck as footsteps broke through her reverie.

"What are you doing!" Sam yelled as he saw Dee's hands near his brother's neck.

"Take it easy, Sam. Just making sure the…that there's no infection," said Dee as she finished fixing the dressing. "He's fine…"

"He's _not _fine," angered Sam as he went to his brother, pushing her out of the way. "And we all know why that is!" he spat as he sat on the bed and checked Dean's throat; _"Don't_ we?" he asked as he turned his head, but he was speaking to an empty room.

* * *

Dee found Bobby outside loading weapons into his truck; wearing a look of dogged determination as he repeatedly glanced at her. She leaned against the old Ford and lit a smoke; "Going somewhere?"

Bobby ignored the question as he threw a duffel bag into the cab of the truck. He wasn't going to argue with anyone, let alone Dee, about his decision. This was _his _mess, and no one would be cleaning it up but him. He'd fucked up thirty years ago, and it was time to make things right.

"You're _not _going after her," angered Dee as she put herself between Bobby and the truck.

"Step out of my way, Dee," Bobby ordered.

"No." The word was softly spoken, yet full of menace. Cold, calculating menace. "You want to go after Riley, you have to go through me."

"Don't tempt me, missy. Now _move," _he said through gritted teeth as he took a step towards her.

Dee stood her ground; _"Through _me, Bobby."

"Christ Almighty, woman! " cried Bobby in frustration. "Me and Sam _explained _what was going on!" He threw up his hands in disgust; "What does she have to do for you to realise…"

"It's _you _that doesn't realise what you're up against!" interrupted Dee.

Bobby let out a bitter laugh; "I understand more than you think. Do you have any idea how _dangerous _she is?"

Dee gave him a lopsided grin; "And I understand more than _you_ think, Bobby." She took a step towards him; "You _know _who trained her. Jack. And if you know Jack at all, then you should have _some_ idea of how good she is." She leaned forward, putting her face inches from Bobby's; "But you need to worry about who _else _trained her, old son. Because if you think her skills are limited to hunting," she laughed softly; "Then you might as _well_ go after her, make it easier on yourself."

Bobby glared at the woman in front of him; "If you _know _something I need to, then you damn well tell me!"

Dee stepped back and leaned against the truck again, a smile forming on her lips; "Now why would I do that when you've been less than forthcoming with _your _information." She piqued an eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest; "You're quite the master of the artful dodge. Tell me," she smiled; "What is it that _you _know?"

Bobby shook his head, an incredulous laugh floating from his lips; "Even after everything she's done, you're still defending her."

"Defending _her_ or protecting _you?" _she smiled again; "That's the question you need to answer." She ground out her smoke under the heel of her boot, pushed herself from the truck and headed back towards the house.

Bobby stared at the now clear path to the truck; so easy to just get inside, gun the engine and start his 'hunt'; but his mind was doing somersaults as he wondered at Dee's words. What the hell kind of secrets of Riley's was that damn English bitch keeping?

He didn't jump when he heard the soft whisper near his ear. He didn't dare. The cold steel blade resting on his throat could have sliced his neck open like a pig in an abattoir. The low chuckle that accompanied the threat chilled Bobby to the bone, contradicting the hot breath that pushed against his ear.

"She could sneak up on you and slit your throat before you knew what was happening."

He felt the blade push once against his skin and then the pressure was gone. Bobby turned his head slowly and looked into Dee's twinkling green eyes. It wasn't the bright twinkling of the evening star that brought smiles to children's faces as they cast their wish; it was the look of a cold-blooded killer, toying with her prey; teasing him, like a cat does with a captured mouse before it finally slices its belly open, spilling its guts and life-blood into the dust. She sheathed the knife in a fluid movement and smiled. The smile didn't reach her eyes.

She raised an eyebrow; "I'm just saying."

* * *

Bobby stood at the window; it was _his _turn to watch Dee with _her _weapons. She was at the back of the Land Rover, checking each pistol meticulously before laying her arsenal out in precise order. There were no hesitations in any of her movements; she handled each weapon with not only perfect skill but with a disturbing intimacy.

"Tell me what you know about Dee's background?" Bobby asked quietly as he watched.

Sam raised his eyes from the sleeping form of his brother to the hunched shoulders of Bobby's back; "Background?"

Bobby turned slowly from the window and leaned his ass against the sill; "Anything you can tell me, Sam."

Sam's brows knitted together as looked at Bobby; "Didn't you just say _Riley _was our problem?"

"Riley _is _the problem. But I need to know who trained Riley and Dee isn't telling me squat. So _you_ tell _me_ about Dee."

Sam sighed; "Bobby…"

"Sam. That girl is coming back to finish the job on your brother, and you and I are in the firing line." He stared intently at Sam; "And I'm telling you, that's a _literal _firing line. Dee, for some reason, is still loyal to the bitch, so it's you and me now, son." He paused; "Tell me."

Sam shook his head with a sigh; "Shit, Bobby. I don't know all that much. She's ex-SAS - sniper. I've never seen her shoot, but Dean told me she's freakishly accurate." He glanced at his brother; "He was impressed so she must be pretty damn good."

"When'd she leave the army?"

Sam shrugged; "No idea. She doesn't talk about it and the last couple of times we've been together, chit-chat wasn't high on the agenda."

Bobby ignored the sarcasm; "You know how she and Riley met?"

Sam shook his head; "Not really. I…" he frowned in thought, "I think I remember Riley saying something about meeting up with Dee in Australia…but," he shrugged; "don't know how or where."

Bobby laughed hollowly; "You and your brother sure don't know a lot about these _friends _of yours, do you?"

Sam leaned forward in his chair; pushing down the anger that rose inside him as he stared at Bobby; "Maybe not, Bobby. But what we do know; what me and Dean know about them and what they know about us, is that we can rely on each other when it comes down to it."

"You still think that?" Bobby asked as he motioned to Dean.

Sam's gaze went back to his brother; to his pale face with the dark circles sitting under his eyes, and to the mess that was his neck. To what Riley had done to Dean. But what _had _she done? Dean _should _be awake; the wounds were deep, but not deep enough to have kept him out for this long. There had to be something else at play here. But what? What _else _could there be? 

He slumped back in his chair; "I don't know what the hell to think anymore," he said wearily. "None of it makes _any _goddamn sense, and just when I think I got a handle on it, something else happens that throws me on my ass."

Bobby took a chair and placed it on the other side of the bed and sat; "Sam, listen to me. We're the only ones here that are going to protect Dean," he said quietly. "We don't know how Dee's gonna react, she's loyal to Riley, not to you _or _Dean. You understand me?"

Sam laughed softly; it was a tired laugh. "I haven't understood _anything _you've said since we got here, Bobby. No one's acting like themselves. Not you, not Dean and definitely not Riley and Dee." He paused and looked into Bobby's eyes; "And I got a feeling something bad's coming."

"Aaah, yeah, Sam. Riley."

Sam shook his head; "I don't mean her."

Bobby sighed; "Look, answer me honestly. _Does _Riley have it in her to come after us and…" he stopped, cocking his head as he remembered something Sam had said to Dee earlier; "What did you mean when you asked Dee about that guy in Vermont?"

"Guy?" Sam's brows knitted together in confusion; "Oh, that." He shrugged; "I don't know the exact details, but she killed one of the hillbillies that were hunting her and Dean. Slit his throat. She said she had no choice." He looked at his brother; "Dean backed her up."

Bobby nodded slowly; he could _still _feel the cold blade of the knife against his neck. He needed answers; _"Think, _Sam. You've hunted with her twice, you know more than you think you….what? What is it?" he asked as he saw Sam's eyes widen.

"Explosives."

"_What?" _asked Bobby incredulously; thinking he must have misheard the boy.

Sam looked over to Bobby; "When we were in Vermont, Riley used plastic explosive."

* * *

Dee knew she was being watched; she didn't care. She took a quick inventory of the precisely arranged weapons laid out in front of her; her L115A3 sniper rifle, .338 calibre with scope; two Browning 9mms – one with silencer; Sig Sauer P226 – 9mm; Walther P99 – 9mm; Kizlyar and Linder daggers, sharpened to perfection.

She gave a short, sharp nod. Travel light.

She took a duffel bag from the weapons cache and got the ammo she needed. She methodically disassembled the rifle and placed it in the bag. The Walther and Sig Saur joined the rifle while the Brownings went to the small of her back; the daggers in her boots. She slipped the bag over her shoulder and closed the Landy doors quietly.

She glanced up at the window and saw Bobby's back. She smiled to herself; it's all in the timing. She went quickly to Bobby's truck, then the Impala; let them try and follow her now.

She chanced another glance to the window; and smiled. She adjusted the duffel bag and jogged down the track towards the road. By the time they realised she was gone, she'd have a car and be on her way to Carthage. That's where he'd said Riley was.

And Riley needed to be dealt with.

* * *

"You have _got _to be shitting me, Sam!"

"Would I _make _a joke about that?" asked Sam angrily.

"Where the _hell _would she get plastic explosive?" asked Bobby as he stood. "And _why _the hell would she need it?"

Sam shook his head; "All I know is she got it from the back of the Landy and it looked like she knew how to handle the stuff. Wait here," he ordered as he jogged from the room.

Bobby's gaze shifted to Dean and he released a sigh. "What have you got yourself into, boy?" He took the medi-kit from the side table and got out fresh bandages. "Always thinking with your …" he stopped as Sam came in.

"Here," said Sam as he sat, resting the laptop on the side-table.

"_What _are you doing?"

Sam grinned at Bobby; "Gonna google them." He tapped in Dee's name first; she was military, there'd have to be something on her.

"Google," laughed Bobby as he began to remove the bandages from around Dean's neck.

"Yeah, well…maybe…" muttered Sam as he scanned name after name. He'd been at it for about five minutes when found something that caught his attention. The name was similar...and so was the town. "Huh. How about that…"

"What?" asked Bobby as he looked up from examining Dean's wounds.

"Carthage is what? Five, six hours from here?" asked Sam as he read the article.

Bobby's stomach tightened at the mention of the town; "'Bout that. Why?"

"It's probably nothing…coincidence," he shrugged; "But I found a Richardson. Not Dee. Isobel. Found murdered in Carthage about thirty years ago." He frowned; "Well maybe it's more than coincidence, says here she was English," he looked at Bobby. "What are the chances?"

"How'd they know she was English?" asked Bobby as he dropped his gaze back to Dean.

"Doesn't say." He glanced at Bobby; "But wasn't that where you said you met Jack? On a vamp hunt in Carthage?" Bobby nodded. "And?"

"And what?" asked Bobby.

"And don't you think it's odd that an English woman by the name of 'Richardson' was murdered in the same town and at about the same time you and Jack met?"

"Stranger things have happened, Sam."

"Yeah?" asked Sam as he watched Bobby; "Then why won't you look me in the eye, Bobby?" he asked as he studied the man's lowered head. _"What_ do you know?"

"I don't know anything about anyone getting murdered in Carthage, Sam. Then _or _now."

"Well how 'bout we ask Dee how much of a coincidence _she _thinks it is?"

"You manage to find anything about _Dee _on there? And in case you've forgotten, we've still got Riley gunning for us."

"_Riley…" _

Both Sam and Bobby turned to the raspy voice.

"Dean…Dean…it's me, Sam. Open your eyes, dude."

"_Sammy…"_

"Right here, dude. Come on, open your eyes and look at me."

"_Hurt…"_

"Yeah, I know. But you're gonna be alright, I promise," whispered Sam as he squeezed Dean's shoulder gently.

Dean pulled his hands from underneath the blankets and raised his fingers to his throat and winced; _"Hurt…"_

"I know, son," said Bobby softly. "But Riley's gone, that bitch ain't gonna hurt you…"

Dean's eyes slowly fluttered open; _"No..not…Riley…"_

"Dean, look at me," said Sam, and he turned Dean's head gently towards him and looked into his brother's slowly focussing eyes. "Riley tried to kill you…"

Dean shook his head and winced, "No."

"_Yes, _Dean," Sam insisted.

Dean looked into Sam's eyes; "Not…Riley…_Dee._"

* * *

Sam slammed through the screen door; the crack of it hitting the wall was like a gunshot round the property. "DEE!" he yelled as he jogged down the porch steps. "DEE!" He kept yelling her name as he checked behind the house …but nothing. No Dee. She wasn't damn well anywhere. He came round the front of the house as Bobby walked out.

"Where the hell is she?" he asked as he came down the porch.

"I have no goddamn idea!" yelled Sam as he went to the Landy. He flung open the back doors, reached to the side and pressed the button that opened the floor.

"God_damn…" _whispered Bobby as he looked at the weapons that filled the hidden cache.

"Her rifle's missing," said Sam as he checked through the arsenal.

"You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" he angered, slamming the floor then the doors shut. He turned and scanned the area, "Inside." He pushed Bobby towards the house; "GO!"

They moved quickly inside, both of them glancing over their shoulders as Sam shut the door behind them. He looked up when he heard footsteps; swearing as Dean came slowly down the stairs; his bag slung over his shoulder, Sam's bag in his hand.

"What in God's name do you think you're doing?" asked Bobby incredulously.

"To help Riley…" said Dean as he winced, dropping Sam's bag to the floor.

"She almost ripped your goddamn throat out, boy!"

"No she didn't. We just…doesn't matter." He looked at Sam. "Where's that bitch?"

"Which bitch are you talking about?" asked Bobby with a laugh.

Dean glared at Bobby then turned back to Sam; "Well?"

"Don't know, but her rifle's missing," said Sam.

Dean went to the window and peeked out quickly; his eyes scanning the property. "You know how long…" he winced as he swallowed; "she left? Riley _and_ Dee."

"Riley was gone when we woke this morning. Dee…has to be in the last hour," said Sam.

"Dean," started Bobby, "you don't know what's going on…"

"I know more than _you_ do," he winced and put a hand to his throat. "Shit."

"_Riley_ did that to you, and then she ran. In the middle of the night. No note. No explanation. Just you, like that. What does that tell you?"

"That you don't know what the hell you're talking about," rasped Dean. "Let's go, Sammy."

Bobby stood in front of the door; "There's no way on God's green earth that I'm letting _either _of you out that door. You…" he pointed to Dean; "are in no condition to go anywhere. And you," he turned to Sam; "just told me one of them's a _sniper _and the other one plays with plastic explosive!" He looked between the two of them; "Are ya idjits?"

"You have _no _idea what's going on," angered Dean.

"First of all, do you have _any _idea where Riley is? No? Didn't think so. And _secondly, _who's to say that you don't walk out that door and get a bullet to the brain."

"Because, _Bobby, _if Dee wanted me dead…" he swallowed painfully, "I _would _be." He dropped his bag and pulled the cuffs of his shirt and jacket up; "Did I have these this morning?"

Bobby stared at the bruises that were starting to form on Dean's wrists.

"No? _Didn't think so_," he took a step towards Bobby, "Because Dee did that with her knees while she had her hands around my throat. She doesn't want me dead." He picked up his bag and turned to Sam; "Come on."

"And just _where _are you gonna start looking?"

"Carthage," said Sam as he picked up his bag.

* * *

Riley coughed. That's what woke her up. The first flutterings of consciousness floated through her mind as she coughed again. The coppery tang filled her mouth and she willed her eyes open, frowning as he looked through the shattered remains of the windshield. There were…_trees _in the sky? She blinked again and again as her mind began to catch up with her body.

Accident. She'd been in an accident…rolled the truck. Upside down now. Got it. She blinked rapidly again and then the pain hit. Okay, she grimaced, letting out a small yell between gritted teeth; all caught up now. Ribs, left hand, left knee…and the mother of all headaches was on its way. And lets not forget the acrid smell of petrol. Time to move.

She lowered her right arm towards the seat belt, biting back a yell as her shoulder muscles protested under the direction. Christ, how long had she been out? It took five or six hits to the button before she fell unceremoniously onto her shoulders; giving voice to the yell this time as her knee smacked against the steering wheel.

She lay on her back, breathing heavily as she listened to her body scream. She put tentative fingers to her head, feeling the gash and large lump on the left hand side of it Awesome. At least it wasn't bleeding freely. She looked at her watch, great. Broken. She reached over awkwardly and opened the glovebox, watching everything spill to the floor. She pushed at the parking tickets until she found her phone. She flicked it open and groaned, of _course _she couldn't get a signal. She looked out the shattered windscreen, nothing but trees and bush. No wonder.

She looked around the cab, no bag. Didn't matter, she had to get moving. She had her colt and her daggers; that was all she needed. She slid slowly from the truck, discovering new aches on the way, but she was more determined than ever to get out of here.

This _hadn't _been an accident. A woman standing in the middle of the road smiling at her? Yeah, right. She'd been _stopped _from trying to get to the ex-cop, and she had a pretty good idea why. _He _was the one who could tell her about the bloodied hands from her dream; the ones that were coming for Dean. The hands she knew already had one death stained on them; and if she didn't _move _her arse, there was gonna be another. She didn't doubt it.

But it was the name of the woman she was going to ask him about, that held her attention. She pushed herself painfully to her feet; whatever this cop knew about the murdered woman, was a death sentence. She needed to get to him.

And she needed to know why and Englishwoman by the name of Isobel Richardson had been murdered almost thirty years ago to the day in a town not far from Bobby's; and _why _this woman had used her _mother's _name on the registration form.

_**To be continued…**_


	11. Paths Interweaving

(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural related; the following story and the characters of Riley and Dee belong to me)

(A/N: This chapter is rated for violence and languge.)

* * *

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Eleven.**

Dean slammed down the hood of the Impala, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans as he looked at Sam; "Now."

Sam turned the key, the Impala's engine roaring to life. He smiled at his brother; the car sounded as pissed as Dean looked. He dragged his tall frame from the Impala as Dean went to his rightful seat; "She's got at least two hours on us," said Sam as he started round the car.

"Yeah, well the bitch doesn't know we're coming either. Get in," Dean ordered as he slid behind the wheel.

Bobby grabbed the driver's side door and lowered his face to Dean's; "You need to _stop _ignoring me and _listen _to what I'm telling you, boy."

Dean turned his head slowly to Bobby, his eyes flashing dangerously as he pulled the door shut, just missing slamming Bobby's fingers in the metal.

"Dee's gone after Riley to stop her getting to _you, _boy!" Bobby hissed.

Dean laughed derisively; "No, you _idjit," _mocked Dean; "She's gone to kill her."

Bobby piqued an eyebrow; "You say tomato…"

"_Asshole," _spat Dean, wincing as his vocal chords scratched painfully. "She played you, Bobby. Plain and simple." He released the brake, slammed his foot down on the accelerator and sped from the property; leaving Bobby standing in his dusty wake.

Bobby watched til the boys were nothing more than a black speck in the distance, and whose angry rumble echoed ominously back to him. He finally turned back to the house; time to make plans. And this time he wouldn't make a mistake.

This time, he'd take _both _of them out.

* * *

Sam glanced over at Dean as the Impala roared down the blacktop; his jaw was clenched, his hands tight around the steering wheel as they sped towards Carthage. He'd tried speaking with Dean while he'd been working on the Impala but his brother kept shaking his head and muttering _'No one fucks with my baby' _over and over.

"Dean…"

"_No one _fucks with my baby," he stated again.

"I know, dude. But what the hell happened?" Sam asked as he pointed to Dean's neck.

"I told you, Dee tried to…"

"Dee didn't do all of it," Sam interrupted. "And don't even _try _to lie your way out of it. All this bullshit has _got _to stop," he let out a sarcastic laugh; "You'd think after hunting together a couple of times, and not simple salt'n'burn's either, no," he laughed again, "not us. We gotta take on upper-echelon …"

"This going somewhere, Sammy?" Dean interrupted as he glanced at his brother.

Sam's jaw set; _"Yes, _Dean." He turned in his seat; "You'd think we'd have _learned _by now that _lying _to each other SCREWS US OVER!"

"Geez, settle down, Sammy," said Dean, giving his brother a trademark grin.

"Are you _shitting _me!" Sam yelled, punching Dean in the shoulder.

"HEY!" Dean returned the punch.

"For Christ's sake, Dean! _Enough! _What the hell's going on with you and Riley?"

Dean's hands tightened on the steering wheel; "You changed _your _tune pretty damn quickly, Sam." He glanced at his brother; "From what Bobby said, you were all set to kill Riley yourself. Why the about-face, huh? Is there something _you're _not telling _me?"_ He laughed at Sam's silence; "So this caring and sharing bullshit only works one way does it?" He shook his head, swallowing painfully; "You just blew your own argument out of the water, dude."

"Dreams."

"What?"

"_Dreams, _Dean." He looked at his brother; "I know you're having them…and I've been having them too. I'm sure we all are. And I'm betting we all started getting them around the same time." He glanced out the window; "And I'm guessing mine aren't as …much…fun …as yours…though…"

Dean tried to hide a smile; "That's none of your business, Sammy-boy."

"How can you _laugh _after Riley did that to you?" asked Sam incredulously.

"Riley didn't try to kill me, dude. I explained that already."

"You haven't explained _shit _to me_, _Dean." Sam pushed the image of his brother's blood-covered neck from his mind; "The _blood _Dean."

Dean tapped the brakes and turned the wheel hard right as he fishtailed into the turn to Carthage; he slammed his foot on the accelerator and the Impala roared forward. He squirmed in his seat as he remembered the feel of Riley underneath him; begging her to do to him what he'd done to her; the feel of her teeth breaking his skin and him urging her on until that last bite that had driven him over the edge. He'd been completely lost to her; kissing her, tasting his blood on her lips, hers on his as they shook with uncontrollable pleasure.

He glanced at his brother; "Just trust me, on this. Riley's the one in trouble, not me."

Sam sighed dramatically; "Dee's coming for _you, _Dean."

Dean shook his head; "I _told _you, she could've killed me and she didn't. She wants me alive and she wants _you _alive. She's _after_ Riley…and I'm guessing it's got everything to do with Isobel Richardson." He looked over at Sam; "Dee's covering something."

"Dude, Dee would have been barely outta diapers when this happened," said Sam as he rubbed at his eyes; "But this isn't a coincidence, no way. This Isobel Richardson has _something _to do with Dee, we just have to figure out what."

"We find Riley first," stated Dean.

Sam nodded slowly; they had the element of surprise on Dee at the moment, but Dee had it on Riley. "She won't see Dee coming," he said quietly as he reluctantly went over the dreams he'd had. The answer was in there somewhere, he was sure of it. And once he figured it out, maybe _then _Dean would listen to him. Until then, he would stick like glue to his brother and make sure he kept him alive.

But Dean was right about one thing; Dee _was _gunning for Riley, but he and his brother were next in the firing line.

* * *

Dean tried to hide a sigh as he pushed through the third motel reception door in Carthage. He _hadn't _been able to hide his frustration at finding out the motel Isobel Richardson had been murdered in was now a gas station; and still not finding any sign of Riley. He clenched his hands as he saw another flash of those manic laughing eyes. He pushed that image aside and rang the bell on the desk; glancing at Sam as the sharp 'ping' interrupted the sound of arguing that filtered from the half-closed door behind the reception desk.

"This should be fun," Dean muttered, forcing a smile at the dark-haired woman that appeared somewhat flustered in the doorway. "Ma'am," he flashed his badge, "We'd…"

"About _time!" _she sighed in frustration as she looked between them. "Well?"

"Aaah, well…what…Ma'am?" stammered Sam as he glanced at his brother.

The door behind the woman was thrown wide and an elderly man stomped out; his eyes flashing angrily at the woman before they turned to Dean and Sam; "You listen here!" he snapped as he pointed a crooked finger at them. "I ain't filing no complaint, and I ain't letting _her _file no complaint, neither! So you take your badges, shove 'em up your asses and piss off!"

"_Pop!" _scolded the horrified woman before she turned apologetic eyes to Dean and Sam. "Sorry, I'm so sorry." She sighed dramatically; "And don't listen to him _neither_;" she glared at the old man; "I don't care _what _he says," argued the younger woman; "She _kidnapped _him!"

"She didn't kidnap me you over-zealous, nazi," the man angered; "She gave me a _ride!"_

"To a _strip club, _Pop!"

Dean hid a grin; he was on the old dude's side. "Aaah, Ma'am, if he left voluntarily, it's _not _kidnapping."

"See?" the old man grinned.

The woman turned back to them; "There's got to be _something _you can do! She kidnapped him and took him to a _strip club!"_

"It wasn't a _kidnapping, _you fool! I just wanted to see some tits and ass! Is that too much to ask in my old age?"

"_Something! Anything!" _the woman begged.

"Did you cross state lines?" asked Sam, trying to hide a smile.

"Of course I didn't ya idjit," angered the old man, and Sam couldn't stop a laugh this time.

"Sorry, Ma'am," said Sam, hiding his laughter behind a cough, "Nothing we can do."

The woman sighed; "She seemed so _nice."_

"She was a pain in the ass," the man grinned; "And a lot more fun than you are, Carlie."

"Pain in the ass?" asked Dean as he reached over and grabbed the registry book, running his finger down the page. He looked up at the old man; "We need to talk."

"I told you, and I told them other's, you're not getting _jack _out of me," he said defiantly.

Dean turned to the woman and gave her a disarming smile as he leaned against the desk; "Carlie, tell you what we'll do, we'll have a chat with your gramps and see if there _is _something we can do."

"I'm not telling you _shit!" _

Carlie's eyes narrowed at her pop; "Take all the time you want."

Dean smiled as he rounded the desk and led the old man into the back room, smiling as the cranky bastard swore the whole way. Sam closed the door behind them as the old man lowered himself into an old easy-chair and glared at Dean as he stood over him.

"What's your name?"

"What's yours?" countered the old man. "And don't give me some bullshit one, either."

Dean reached down quickly into the man's jacket and took out his wallet.

"Hey!"

"Frank Masterton." He looked at the man; "Tell me everything she told you,"

"She who?" asked Frank.

"Don't fuck with me old man," angered Dean. "I'm in a _shitty _mood."

"I'm not telling you shit, _boy. _That girl did nothing wrong and I ain't putting you lot on to her," Frank spat. _"Whoever_ the hell you are."

Dean sat on the coffee table; leaning into the man's personal space; "You tell me everything you and Layla Clapton talked about," he whispered angrily.

"You think I'm scared of you, boy?" he laughed; "I'm an old man; please, you'd be doing me a favour," he smiled at Dean.

Dean looked over at Sam; "I'm gonna kill him."

Sam rolled his eyes; "Mr Masterton, we're telling the truth. R..Layla is a friend of ours and we think…"

"What'd you say?"

"Layla is a friend…" started Sam.

"No, you were gonna call her something else. What was it?"

Dean glanced at Sam before turning to Frank; "Riley."

Sam piqued an eyebrow; "If she told you her real name, then she thinks you're alright, Frank. Help us, help her," Sam intoned softly. "Please."

"Nope."

"You _tell _us where she is, _Frank,_" menaced Dean; he wasn't going to waste time humouring the old man; he didn't think Riley had the time. "_Tell _me where she is," he hissed.

Frank bristled; "Listen here, _boy! _As much of a pain in the ass as she was, she helped me out, so I'm not telling you _anything _'til I believe you. And put your damn fake badges away too," Frank mocked; "My grand-daughter may be an idjit, but I ain't."

"We're just trying to find her," said Sam quietly. "She needs our help. Please." Sam urged as Frank said nothing.

"You spoke to her?" Dean asked.

"Mebe."

Dean moved his collar aside; "She have this?"

Frank looked at Dean's neck; "Damn, boy."

"Did she?" Dean asked angrily.

Frank nodded slowly; "She tried to hide it, but I saw."

"Well the person that did this to me, did that to her. And now they're after her again." Dean lied.

"You need to trust us. We're on her side," Sam intoned softly.

Frank leaned back in his chair and crossed his scrawny arms over his chest as looked at the two men in front of him; the tall one with dark hair, using a pleading, lost expression to gain sympathy; the shorter one with the damaged neck not even bothering to hide his anger ...or his willingness to use it against you.

"Not bad this dynamic you got going on," said Frank with a smile. "You suss me out first and then decide which one will be able to get the information from me best." He leaned forward; "I ain't all that impressed."

"I don't know how Riley didn't kill you," muttered Dean. He moved quickly, putting his face inches from Frank's; "_Tell _me where she went," he threatened.

"Isobel Richardson," Sam said quietly, watching Frank closely.

Frank turned to Sam; "What did you say?"

"Isobel Richardson," Sam repeated; "She was looking into the murder of Isobel Richardson wasn't she?"

Frank said nothing.

"Jesus Christ! Get your head outta your ass old man, and tell us where the hell she is!"

Sam pulled Dean out of the way and sat opposite Frank; "You liked her Frank, I can see that," he leaned his elbows on his knees and looked earnestly at the man; "She's in trouble, Frank and we're the only one's that can help her."

Frank looked between the two men; studying them carefully, even through all the lies they'd been spinning, he saw the worry in their eyes. It was the one honest thing he could get from them. He sighed; "She didn't know the name," he finally admitted, watching the interaction between them. They had the same desperate look in their eyes as Riley had had.

"What?"

"She didn't _know _the name. She was just asking about murders in the area; messy ones. And we've only ever really had the one. Isobel Richardson. Riley had that same look on her face you're wearing when I told her."

"She didn't know?" asked Sam as he looked at Dean; "Why would she come _here _then? It doesn't make any sense….again. What a surprise," he muttered.

"What else?" asked Dean.

"Not a lot. Don't know the specifics except that it was …"

"Messy," finished Sam.

Frank nodded; "The woman died from a stab wound to the chest…" he started.

"We _know _that. It was in the newspaper article," started Sam.

Frank turned his eyes to Sam; "Did the newspaper say her heart had been ripped out. _Literally _ripped out?" He nodded; "Didn't think so." He leaned forward; "They never found it, neither."

"Any suspects?" asked Sam.

"They thought they did, but turned out to be a false name," said Frank.

"What name?" Dean and Sam asked in unison.

"Virginia Ackerman," Frank said quietly, watching as the two men shared that unspoken communication again. "What is it?"

"You _sure _about that name?" asked Dean.

Frank nodded; "Ayuh.

"Where is she?" asked Dean. "You _need _to tell me where she is."

"We don't have a lot of time, Frank," urged Sam.

Frank sighed again; "Sent her to speak with the investigating detective, and before you ask, about four hours ago."

"Address," Dean demanded.

* * *

Riley worked her way slowly up the embankment; she was having trouble getting a signal on her phone, but she was fine with that for now; it gave her time to try and figure out what the hell was going on. She let out a small laugh; yeah good luck with that, Riley.

She pushed past the pain in her knee as she climbed along the embankment; but there was no getting past the intuition that screamed at her that Isobel Richardson had known her mother. Riley stopped; her hand resting on the nearest tree. Shit. Mum. Her mum had been freaked before she'd left home; uncharacteristically freaked. And now, here, over fifteen thousand kilometres away, her mother's name had popped up.

Coincidence? She didn't believe in them. Especially in her line of work. But none of this made any sense. She'd gone to Carthage to try and find something on 'the hands' that were coming for Dean, instead, she'd stumbled onto her mother's name and the name of someone that held her best friend's surname. A dead someone. It had to be linked. But how? How the _fuck _were they linked?

She pushed off the tree, and continued her steady climb; pushing through the thick bushes and weaving slowly around the trees. This was seriously messing with her head. She looked at her phone and smiled; she had a signal. She dialled the number she needed and waited…and waited…

"Come on…come on…" she muttered as the phone continued to ring. She sighed in frustration as it clicked over to message bank; "Mum…it's me. Shit. I _really _need to talk to you. Ring me, when you get this. As _soon _as you get this, Mum. Doesn't matter what time…just…_shit…_" she pulled the phone away from her ear as a scream ripped over the line.

She looked at the phone warily; she'd lost the signal again…but that wasn't what bothered her. It was the vaguely human quality behind the electronic scream that made her blood run cold.

She had to _move._

* * *

Sam glanced over at his brother as they rounded the bend and spotted the skid-marks and broken guard rail; he braced himself as Dean slammed on the brakes and fishtailed to a stop. He was out of the car in an instant and ran to the edge.

"No. No, no, no…" muttered Dean as he started down the embankment.

"Dean!" yelled Sam as he watched his brother slip and slide his way towards the burnt out remains of the truck. He swore and followed his brother down; the leaf litter scratching his hands as he countered his slide; his eyes not leaving the blackened husk of the vehicle. Smoky wisps pirouetted slowly into the forest, the acrid smell of burnt metal singeing the air around him; but it was the bitter-sweet smell that lingered under it, that made him race towards his brother.

He grabbed Dean as they saw the burnt body lying half-way through the shattered windshield; the blackened outstretched arms with broken fingers still dug deep into the scorched earth, the shattered leg wedged between the seat and the door.

He swore to himself; she'd been trapped, unable to escape the fire…and she'd tried. Fuck me, she'd tried.

"Dean…"

"Riley…" he took a step towards the truck, his eyes glued to the scorched, partially melted body that still hissed and bubbled in places.

"Dean, no, dude…come on…" Sam said quietly, holding onto Dean's arm.

"NO!" he pushed Sam from him and went to the truck. He crouched in front of the body. "It …might not be her," he said quietly.

Sam put a hand on Dean's shoulder, he'd noted the numberplate and the make; it was Riley's truck. "Dean…we need to…" he stopped, confused, stumbling as he felt like he'd been punched in the chest. He was more confused when Dean tackled him to the ground and dragged him behind the truck, sitting him up against it. Sam looked down as Dean opened his jacket and ripped his shirt aside; a frown creasing his brow as he saw the blood streaming out of his left shoulder.

"You're gonna be alright, Sammy," Dean instructed as he quickly slipped his jacket and shirt off, wadding the shirt against Sam's shoulder.

"Shot," Sam whispered as he stared into Dean's worried but furious eyes.

Dean grabbed Sam's hand and placed against the wound; "Keep pressure on it, Sammy." He pushed Sam down as he heard the sharp sound of a bullet screaming through metal. "Stay _down, _Sam!" he ordered as he inched towards the back of the truck.

Time to see if Jack Riley kept his weapons in a fire-proof cache.

* * *

Dee gave a small nod as she located the car she'd been promised. _This _was how things were supposed to work. Reliability. Diligence_. Discipline._ This was her zone. She strode towards the innocuous looking sedan and threw her bag onto the passenger seat as she slipped behind the wheel. She didn't need to adjust the seat; _he'd _left this for her; he wouldn't make a mistake, not where she was concerned.

She steered the four-door onto the blacktop, pushing her foot to the floor, allowing only the echo of a smile to touch her lips as the V8 roared and the car growled forward. _Yes, _she thought to herself, time for the predator to hunt down the prey.

She found the truck where she'd been instructed; but she'd missed Riley. That bitch was starting to get on her nerves. She cocked her head as she heard the wind whisper through the trees, bringing with it the soft murmurings she needed. She turned and made her way back to the car.

She popped the trunk; reaching in without hesitation and throwing the bloodied corpse over her shoulder. She grunted under the weight as she slammed the trunk shut; sliding the body down ahead of her as she made her way back to the disabled truck.

She'd positioned the body carefully, inadvertently breaking some of the fingers as she forced them into the dirt. She didn't need to force the mouth open; it still held its final scream on bloodied lips.

She stood and surveyed her work; _nope, _no where near devastating enough. This had to _rip _into those two; she needed them off their game for this. She needed them out of the way so she could deal with Riley. She'd come back for them later. Still, she did expect better from them; they should've realised she'd know they were coming.

She stepped towards the truck; grabbing the left leg and slamming her boot down on it, shattering the femur then the tibia and fibula before jamming the now jello-like leg between the door and drivers seat. _Much _better.

She took a cigarette from her packet and lit it, breathing in deep as the smoke wafted through her lungs; she puffed slowly as she headed towards the embankment, flicking the butt towards the gas-soaked earth as she made her way quickly back to her car.

She didn't flinch as the muffled explosion pushed a heat wave against her back; she kept a steady pace.

Phase one had been completed.

She moved her car further up the mountain, hiding it carefully as she grabbed her bag from the back seat.

Time to put phase two into action.

* * *

Dean edged to the back of the truck; he had to do this quickly. From the angle Sam had been hit, Dee was on the other side of the truck, but he _knew _she was already on the move; he had one chance. All he had with him was his colt and a dagger, which were pretty damn useless against a sniper. He took a deep breath and turned to the back of the truck, reaching into the scalding metal and swearing as blisters formed on his fingers as he tried to locate the switch Riley had shown him.

"Come on…come on, you _sonofabitch…" _he hissed.

He ducked as he heard the sound of screaming metal again; "SAMMY!"

"Still here…dude…"

Dean reached into the truck again but before he could flick the switch, he heard the click of the cache unlocking. He tore the door open, pulling the rack open and grinning as he saw the perfectly untouched weapons inside. "Not surprised, Jack," he whispered.

He grabbed a shotgun then smiled as he saw a M24 rifle in back. "Come here, beautiful." He grabbed the rifle, shells and scope. "You wanna fuck with me, bitch?" he muttered as he quickly grabbed two more pistols.

He slammed the cache shut and went back to Sam; he checked the wound again. "You're gonna be fine, Sammy. Just let me kill this bitch first."

"With _what, _Dean?"

Dean grinned; "Jack's a genius." He pointed to the weapons. "You stay down 'til I say it's safe."

"And _where _are you …going?"

"Like I said, to kill the bitch." He loaded the shotgun and passed it to Sam; "Shoot anything that moves." He grabbed the rifle, loaded it and attached the scope.

"Dean…"

Dean grinned at his brother; "Two can play at this game," he patted Sam gently on the shoulder and commando crawled to the front of the truck. His eyes flicked to body in the cabin and his anger boiled over; Dee would _pay _for this. He turned to a grab at his ankle; "Sam!" he hissed, "Get _back!"_

Sam shook his head; "You don't know where she is…" he said quietly.

Dean grinned; "You gonna be my eyes Sammy?"

Sam let out a small laugh; "Run."

Dean nodded, slipping the rifle over his shoulder; as Sam looked through the burnt out remains of the truck. He jumped to his feet and ran towards a small gully about twenty feet away. He swore as he felt a bullet sear past his cheek and he threw himself into the trench as he heard another bullet slam into a nearby tree.

He lay on his side, breathing heavily, his throat screaming in protest as he sucked in painful lungfuls of air. He rolled onto his stomach, crawling 'til he could get a clear line of sight to Sam. He nodded to Sam's signals and had the rifle out and was scanning the area Sam had directed him to. He wouldn't miss.

He watched and waited.

* * *

Riley turned to the sound of an explosion; her heart sinking just a little. Her Dad's truck. She hesitated before finally shaking her head; there was nothing she could do now. The weapons were protected…not that she cared about the guns, it was Jack's swords and daggers that meant the most to her. She'd go back later for them. They'd been her Dad's and were now _hers... _and no one would take them away from her.

She pushed forward; Jack would seriously kick her up the arse if she went back. She had a job to do. She walked for another twenty minutes before finally scrambling to the top of the embankment; she figured she'd gone a good three miles through the scrub, far enough away from the accident site to not look _that _suspicious…well apart from the ripped clothes and gash to the head, that was. Yeah, hitchhiking was gonna be easy as.

She needed a goddamn miracle. And she got it about ten minutes later in the form of an abandoned car off the side of the road.

Looked like the gods were finally looking favourably on her. She got behind the wheel, hotwired the car quickly and headed up the mountain, surprised at the power hidden within the ugly sedan. She was gonna need it, she could _hear _the sounds of the retired detectives clock ticking down.

She pushed her foot to the floor.

* * *

_The man looked at his handiwork and smiled. He raised blood soaked fingers to his lips and licked them almost clean…there would be no removing all the blood on his hands. He stared proudly at the blood spattered walls of the austere cabin; he'd been given free-reign here and he'd excelled. _

_He dragged the body to an easy-chair and threw the corpse into it, positioning it so it would be the first thing she'd see when she got here. He took his dagger from the table and slit the man's throat, reaching in and pulling the man's tongue through. Almost done. He dipped a finger into the man's blood and wrote on the wall next to the man's seated body. He laughed with delight; she should get the message now._

_Just one more thing. He reached through the sliced flesh, pushing his fingers between the man's rib cage, the snap of the sternum finally breaking free bringing another crimson filled smile to his lips; he tore the quiet heart from the man's chest and raised it high._

_Aa gift for his mistress. _

_**To be continued…**_


	12. History

(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural related; the following story, and the characters of 'Riley' and 'Dee', belong to me)

(A/N: This chapter is rated for language.)

* * *

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Twelve.**

Bobby laid out his arsenal with measured calm; meticulously checking each weapon before placing it decisively on the table in front of him. He couldn't afford for any one of them to misfire; that'd be a death sentence. The knives and daggers were razor sharp and glinting in the late afternoon sun that filtered through the windows; each one as honed as Bobby's mind as he focussed on the hunt ahead. He understood this was a one-off deal; if he didn't kill Riley and Dee, they'd kill him…and then Dean and Sam. He couldn't afford a mistake.

Only problem was, he wasn't a hundred percent sure this wasn't another one. That niggling doubt that tickled the back of his mind wouldn't go away; but was that doubt …or guilt. Not that it mattered; the situation had gone past the point of no return. Doubt and guilt no longer played a part.

He sat down heavily in his chair, rubbing a hand down his face as a weary sigh escaped him; but there was nothing he could do to spare his conscience. He was going down a road he swore he would never travel again; one that ended in murder…and, more than likely, the forfeiture of his soul.

Were Riley and Dee innocent? In the beginning he was sure they were, but their mothers' had ensured their corruption and he would _not _allow that corruption to spread to his boys. He'd promised John he'd watch over Dean and Sam, keep them safe no matter what. And it was the 'no matter what' he was dealing with now. It had come knocking on his door; taunting him with past deeds and teasing him with future performances; making sure he understood that what was started 30 years ago, _wasn't _over.

He thought he'd been free of it, that it was a dark part of his past that could be locked away, _never _to be opened again. But he understood now that he'd been engaged in a dance with Riley and Dee from the beginning. He'd sidestepped their furtive pirouettes as he'd tap-danced around the truth…and they'd manoeuvred him perfectly. It had been a deadly waltz that had begun slowly with their mothers, and was now reaching its fatal finale with _them._

He closed his eyes; there was no other way. He was a man true to his word. So the promise made to John was a promise he was going to keep. To save Dean and Sam, he had to kill Riley and Dee.

He nodded to himself as he stood; the decision had been made. Grabbing a duffel bag and loading the weapons into it; his mind shifted into the seasoned mode of the hunt. Doubt was pushed aside, his mind going over every conversation, every interaction he'd had with the two; collating each of his prey's strengths and weaknesses, picking up small 'tells' he'd previously missed. Analysing and dissecting their behaviour and attributing likely (and unlikely) scenarios for each.

He understood nothing was set in stone; that those you hunted rarely acted the way you expected – anticipate the surprises, adapt, and alter your plans accordingly. It had worked for him a thousand times before, that's why he was still alive and still in the game.

And that's where the difference lay. It didn't matter how much training Dee and Riley'd had, nothing made up for experience. And he had thirty years on them. That, and the determination to see this through to the very dirty end.

He put a pistol at the small of his back, threw the bag over his shoulder and adjusted his cap. He gathered his keys from the table and walked to the door; his step determined – he was on the hunt now and nothing was going to stop him.

He opened the door….stopping dead in his tracks as he stared into eyes from of his past.

"You…" they said in unison.

* * *

The Impala skidded to a stop in front of the cabin in a cloud of dust and urgency. Bobby was already running down the stairs as Dean slid across the hood and flung the passenger door open; he lifted Sam from the car, stumbling a little under his brother's weight; "I got you, Sammy."

Bobby cursed loudly as he put his arms the other side of Sam and helped Dean carry him into the house; "Jesus _H _Christ, boy! How the _hell _did Riley get to him?"

Dean's eyes flashed dangerously; "_Dee!" _he spat. "How many fucking times do I have to tell you!" he yelled as he pulled Sam from Bobby and carried him quickly to the spare room.

He lay his brother gently on the bed and ripped his t-shirt open; "The bullet's still in there. He passed out about twenty minutes ago."

"Where's Riley?" asked Bobby as he inspected the wound; "Get the medi-kit, the one from my room," Bobby instructed; his eyes not leaving Sam as Dean ran out.

"Jesus, Sam," he muttered, checking his pulse and opening his eyes. "Just hang in there, son. You'll be right soon enough."

Dean ran back in with the large medical bag and handed it to Bobby; "Fix him."

Bobby nodded automatically; "So where the hell is Riley?"

"Just fix _Sam!"_ Dean ordered as he went to the bathroom to get a towel to clean his brother up.

When he came back, Bobby was trying to dig the bullet out of Sam's shoulder; "Jesus…" Bobby grunted, turning the forceps and yanking hard; the bullet pulling free with a sickeningly wet pop.

"Well what do you know," muttered Dean as he pressed the towel against Sam's shoulder; "A .338. That'd be from _Dee's _gun."

Bobby ignored the sarcasm as he worked on Sam; "What the _hell _happened?"

"She took freakin' _pot-shots _at us! What do you _think _happened!"

Dean stood watch over Sam; his hands clenching and unclenching as he stared at his unconscious brother. His stomach was churning, his body tingling with unexpressed rage, fury keeping him silent as he watched Bobby expertly tend to Sam's shoulder.

"And Riley? You find her? Or has she conveniently hooked up with Dee?" asked Bobby angrily. He turned when Dean said nothing. "Well? Where the fuck is she?" he waited; "God_dammit_, Dean! Answer me! WHERE THE HELL IS RILEY?"

"SHE'S DEAD!" Dean roared; the fury finally finding voice as it thundered round the room; "SHE'S _DEAD!_ YOU HAP…" Dean was stopped mid-yell as an unholy howl exploded from the front of the house. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and goose-bumps rise on his skin. "What the _fuck?"_

He raced from the room, pistol in hand, following the ravaged wails towards the kitchen. His finger tightened on the trigger as he stepped cautiously into the kitchen, stopping at the sight that greeted him. A woman; tied to one of the kitchen chairs, frenziedly struggling against her binds, the banging of the chair against the floorboards drowned out by her desperate screams.

He shook his head as he realised he'd been so focussed on getting Sam help, he'd run right past her without seeing her. He didn't know who she was …and he didn't know what to do.

He turned questioning eyes to Bobby as the man came up next to him; "Dean. Virginia Ackerman. Riley's mom."

* * *

Riley fought the instinct to drive right up to the property of retired detective Henry Bowman; the man may be on borrowed time, but charging in was stupid; and as impulsive as she sometimes was, this wasn't going to be one of those times.

She parked the car out-of-sight, just off the side of the well-travelled track that led to the property; checked the pistol at her back and headed into the forest that surrounded the property. Her knee was a little better but she figured that had something to do with her steadfast refusal to acknowledge the damage done to it. Mind over matter. Whatever works.

She moved as quickly as she could, keeping her eyes and ears open for _anything _out of the ordinary; and she needed to be on watch, there wasn't a sound coming from anywhere. No bush creatures, no crickets…nothing. And nature was only ever this quiet when its haven had been disturbed, and she had a feeling it wasn't a bear that had done the disturbing.

She pulled her pistol from the small of her back; the familiar grip of the Colt Desert Eagle bringing her comfort. She crouched at the tree-line surrounding the cabin and watched carefully. Nothing. No sound. No movement. Just the well-kept wooden cabin with a gleaming Chevy pick-up out the front.

She couldn't put it off any longer; she rose, keeping the pistol snug against her leg, the last thing she wanted was for the old man to see it and come out guns blazing. Retired cops were sometimes a little trigger-happy. A bullet was the last thing she needed.

She moved to a side-window and peeked in; bedroom. And not a thing out of place; it was an OCD'ers dream. She wasn't surprised, the outside of the cabin told her the man that lived here liked structure and order; even the flowers had been planted in perfect lines, the small trees evenly spaced along the dark red-wood cabin giving it perfect symmetry.

She edged around the front of the home and made her slow way towards the steps of the immaculately clean front porch. She slipped the hand that held her pistol inside her jacket and knocked quietly on the front door with her other…..and waited. She knocked a little louder and still received no response.

She knocked again; "Mr Bowman?" She waited; "Mr Bowman, I'm a friend of Frank Masterton's." She waited and still nothing. She crept over to the main window, but the heavy curtains were drawn; she could see nothing through them.

She sighed as she made her way back to the front door; "Sorry, Mr Bowman…" she said loudly as she put a hand to the door-knob, her pistol held tightly in the other as she turned the handle. She raised the gun as the door clicked; her stomach dropping as she pushed it open.

"Jesus…" she whispered as she looked at the man in the chair; positioned so she'd have a perfect view of the desecration inflicted on him as soon as she'd opened the door. She slipped carefully into the cabin, gun raised, and made a quick search of the house. Empty.

She made her way back to the main room, avoiding the pools of blood and the splatter that lined the walls. Her shoulders slumped as she studied the man; he was dead because of her. And not just dead either, he'd been tortured and used to send her a message. A 'columbian-necktie'…she'd never seen one before, but she knew what they meant.

She leaned a little closer, holding her breath as she took a quick glance into his chest; his heart was missing, just like Isobel Richardson. What the _hell _was going on here? If the same person that killed Isobel Richardson had killed Henry Bowman…how freakin' _old _were they? And how the hell had they known she was coming to speak with him? The only person that _knew _was Frank…shit! She grabbed her phone from her jacket...no signal. Of course.

She rose and looked around the cabin, she needed anything the man had on the murder; _anything. _She knew the detective would have kept something here; she just had to find it. She went to the study at the back of the house and started going through the desk and filing cabinet as quickly as she could. She couldn't stay here, not in a cabin with a mutilated local. _Shit. _Nothing. She searched the rest of the house but couldn't find anything on the murder. Whatever had been here had been taken.

She went back to the main room, taking a closer look at the words that had been written in blood near the man. She'd noticed them when she'd first entered, but they hadn't been a priority. Now? Not so sure.

Her heart began to race as she made out the message that was almost hidden within the smudged and leaking blood. She took her phone out and snapped a photo of it. She had to get _out _of here…but… She took a breath, put her fingers to the blood on the floor and covered the words, making sure they were unreadable. She went and washed her hand thoroughly, her heart still beating loudly in her chest as she made her way to the front door; she stepped out, stopping as she raised her hands.

"PUT THE GUN DOWN!"

"Easy…" said Riley as she slowly put her pistol on the porch railing.

"HANDS ON YOUR HEAD! DO IT NOW!"

Riley complied; "Just…listen…I came here to speak to Henry, I didn't…"

"WALK DOWN THE STEPS! SLOWLY!"

Riley moved slowly down the stairs, her mind working overtime as she tried to figure a way out of this, but the three pistols and one shotgun that were aimed at her gave her little choice but to obey. And really, a gunfight outside a cabin she'd just exited that held the desecrated body of a local legend would be just plain stupid. Even for her.

Two police officers moved carefully towards her; "ON YOUR KNEES!"

She got down awkwardly, wincing at the pain in her knee; "Just _listen…"_ she started as they rushed her, pushing her to the ground. She grimaced as a knee was forced into her spine and her hands wrenched behind her back as she was cuffed.

She groaned inwardly as she heard swearing and gagging coming from inside the cabin. She was so screwed. She swore as she was hauled to her feet and pushed against the pick-up. "I didn't do…"

"SHUT UP!"

"Okay, then." There was no getting out of this…well, not yet anyway. She'd always been an optimist, an opportunity would present itself; she just had to wait. Besides, if it didn't, she'd _make _one.

She looked up as an officer stormed down the stairs, his face pale, his eyes steely as he strode towards her. He grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and slammed her against the truck, her cracked ribs screaming in protest.

"Layla Clapton!" he spat; "You're under arrest for the murder of Henry Bowman!"

"I didn't…" she was stopped by his slap. She turned furious eyes to him; "Do that again and I'll …"

"Kill me? Like you killed Henry?" angered the cop; his hate-filled eyes inches from hers.

"I didn't kill him you twat!" she yelled; which did nothing but earn her another slap. Riley turned her head back to the cop; "Listen here, dickhead. If I was the one that had done _that" _she motioned her head towards the cabin; "Don't you think I'd be covered in blood? _Think!" _she yelled into his furious face. "Moron…" she muttered when she saw the scathing disbelief in his eyes.

"You've had _plenty _of time to clean-up and change, bitch!" He pushed his thumb against the gash to her forehead, opening it up.

"Bastard!" she hissed, resisting the urge to headbutt him. _Not yet...just wait,_ she repeated to herself.

"Henry got you good," the cop smiled nastily; his eyes dropping to her bruised and weeping neck; "Yeah, he got you good, bitch."

"Henry didn't do _shit _to me and I didn't do _shit _to Henry," Riley said with quiet anger.

"You think I'm stupid?" he yelled into his face.

"Do you really want me to answer that, _officer?"_ She shook her head; "Yeah, I did _that _and then cleaned up and changed into ripped jeans and a torn t-shirt. Not a speck of blood on me. For Christ's sake! Are you _that _big of an idiot?"

The cop stared angrily at her, leaning further into her personal space; "Is that why there's a car parked just off the road, its trunk _filled _with blood?" he hissed as he slammed her back against the trunk. "That's _Henry's _blood, bitch!" He laughed nastily; "And you're gettin' the chair."

Riley's mind was working overtime; she'd stolen a car that, from the sounds of it, had had a body in it recently. Not now though. Convenient. And her fingerprints were all _over _the damn thing. Add in that she looked like she'd just gone twelve rounds with Mike Tyson...yeah, this just got better and better. She had to get out of here _now._

She studied the cop in front of her; just shy of 6ft, military-cut dark brown hair and hate-filled brown eyes. He was grinding his teeth, his hand clenching ever tighter around the scruff of her t-shirt as his chest heaved. He was weighing up whether he could get away with a 'resisting arrest' beating or not.

"Do it," Riley challenged quietly; subtly shifting her weight onto the balls of her feet. "You know there'll be no witnesses." She leaned in; "Do it," she coaxed, "_Do _it."

He smiled as he raised his fist.

So did she.

* * *

Bastard!

God_damn _sonofabitch!

Dee gritted her teeth as she pulled the last stitch through her shoulder. That twat had punched a bullet right through the muscle. She knew what she'd been hit with; Jack's M24. Fuck. She'd slipped. She hadn't checked that the weapons had been destroyed, and that damn Winchester had managed to hit her twice. The second wound was more of a scratch, one she didn't have time to stitch. She was already behind schedule; and now Dean Winchester had pushed her further behind.

She should have snapped his neck when she'd had the chance.

She'd seen the rifle across his back when he'd made what should have been a suicide run across the clearing. It bothered her that she'd missed; more than bothered her. She hadn't missed a rightful target in…she couldn't remember when. But she hadn't been worried, Dean Winchester wasn't the marksman she was, and he had no idea _where _she was. His brother was out of commission so he wouldn't be concentrating properly, and there was no damn way he was leaving Sam behind either. It was just a matter of waiting for the perfect shot.

She'd felt the impact before she'd heard the shot; _two _shots in quick succession. The first had slammed into her shoulder; the second burning through her side as she'd been thrown back, her vision swimming as her body smashed painfully into an old Cottonwood tree.

She didn't understand it. She'd moved from the position from which she'd taken her shots; Dean _shouldn't _have been able to pinpoint her. It was impossible. She didn't like it, didn't like it at all.

She'd sworn as she'd heard the rumble of his car not long later; berating herself as it had screamed away; its growl like damnable laughter as it faded. This wasn't the way it was supposed to play out; but she pushed that thought aside, the result was good enough for now. She'd deal with the Winchesters later. All that mattered was that they were out of the picture, and she could go after Riley without interference.

She finished patching her shoulder; disassembled her rifle and packed it into her bag. Time to go after that bitch. Once she had Riley, she could _really _fuck with them, Dean especially. She'd seen his reaction to what he believed was Riley's body, had _savoured _it. She'd watched him through the cross-hairs, his face seemingly inches from hers as he'd found the body she'd left for him; a smile pulling at the side of her mouth as she'd seen the barely covered crack in his veneer. She was going to break him down agonisingly slowly; the shot to his brother letting him know that she'd always have a target, a way to get to him.

He would _pay _for this. No-one got the better of her and got away with it. _No-one. _

She made her slow but determined way through the scrub; ignoring the aching throb in her shoulder and the blood that slowly seeped down her side as she headed towards the car. She went over every course of action, every line of attack, and every possible contingency; her mind working like the well-oiled machine it was; using it for what it had been trained for. Killing.

She'd been the perfect soldier in her day; an emotionless, cold-blooded killing machine. Her precision, her proficiency, her almost robotic dedication to her craft had earned her a reputation that had been unmatched, and had ensured her rapid rise through the ranks. Her quick threat-assessment, her ability to instantly modify her operation to 'secure' the target with minimal civilian casualties, and the ease with which she could slip in and out of high-risk campaigns almost invisibly, had made her the perfect sniper.

Dee Richardson attacked her profession with brutal militancy; she would not stop until the enemy was eliminated. It was the key to her military success…it was also her undoing.

Her first 'failed' mission they'd put down to misinformation; incorrectly taking out the marks' brother after an unexplained detonation at the target site. Her second raised concerns; another failed mission; another 'casualty of war'. Her third - the one that finally confirmed to her that evil really _did _have a face…or rather _eyes_ – was an awakening of the truth; she could now see the _real _enemy.

Her fourth so-called failure had signalled the disintegration of her military career. The discovery of her superior officer being one of _them;_ was the end of it. The army had driven her into a profession they'd tried to use her to destroy; giving her the tools and the training to do it with blindingly lethal dedication. They'd turned her into those she'd once hunted; and now, her mother's words all those years ago, had turned her again; ensuring her oblivious yet comfortable descent into darkness.

She'd been lured back to the words that had lain dormant in her psyche since she was a child; a siren-call sounding softly in her mind as she was seduced. The promise only hibernating until perfect conditions awakened it, and she returned to the mistress to whom she'd been offered.

She'd come full circle; her life nothing more than the passing of time as she'd waited for the silent summoning; recalled to her remorsefully bestowed destiny by one she was powerless to defy. One who wanted the same thing she did.

Nothing would stand in her way of seeing his promise to her fulfilled; and right now, there were three that were. She had her orders.

There would be no reprieve for _any _of them.

* * *

Sam woke to the sound of indistinct screaming and yelling; a frown creasing his brow as he tried to figure out where he was. He stared at the ceiling, he knew those sigils; Bobby's. He was at Bobby's.

He raised a hand to his shoulder; his fingers tracing over the tightly wrapped bandage that was spotted red. He pushed himself up, wincing as he waited for his head to stop spinning. He rose quickly and unsteadily to his feet; the yelling was intensifying, and he could hear the strain in Dean's voice. His brother was on the edge.

He opened the top drawer of the side-table, hastily lifting papers looking for a weapon. Nothing. He yanked the second draw open; bingo. He grabbed the pistol and turned to the door; walking carefully and warily towards the brouhaha coming from the kitchen.

He turned into the doorway, hiding his shock and raising his gun as he saw Dean's trained on Bobby; his brother standing in front of blonde, middle-aged woman whose vaguely familiar face was a mess of emotions. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but he got all he needed from his brother's face; Dean was protecting the woman. And right now, Dean was the _only _one Sam trusted.

"Put the gun down, Bobby," Sam said firmly.

"Stay out of this, Sam," intoned Bobby calmly, his eyes not leaving Dean's.

"You're holding a gun on _Dean!_ Now put…"

"'It's not Dean I want to shoot, son."

"You think I'm gonna let you shoot her?" Dean menaced; his gun not wavering. "Put the fucking gun _down, _Bobby."

Sam eased steadily into the kitchen, his gun locked on Bobby. "What's gotten into you, Bobby? This isn't _like _you. C'mon, man. Put the gun down and …"

"No," stated Bobby. He glanced quickly at Sam; "Lower your weapon, Sam. You don't know what's going on here…" he said angrily, his eyes now boring deep into Dean's; "And neither do you."

"IT'S _YOU _THAT DOESN'T KNOW!" the woman yelled.

"You shut the fuck up!" Bobby snapped.

"Did you kill Isobel Richardson!" Dean yelled at Bobby.

"_What?"_ Sam shouted; turning incredulous eyes to Bobby. "You _told _me you knew nothing about it!"

Bobby kept his eyes on Dean; all he needed was a clear shot past the boy. "You'd believe her over me, son? She's a liar, she's just trying to protect…"

"Don't you say her name!" the woman yelled. "Don't you _ever _say her name!"

Dean's finger tensed on the trigger; "You heard her. Now answer the damn question!"

"Dean…" started Sam.

Dean motioned behind him; "Sammy, Virginia Ackerman." He glared at Bobby; "Seems Bobby here wants to kill her just like he killed Dee's mom thirty years ago."

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!" Sam yelled; frustration setting in as the clearer picture he thought he'd had of the situation just got muddied again.

"Isobel Richardson was Dee's mom…" started Dean.

"Yeah, I _got _that! I'll _'what the fuck?' _it later! "Sam interrupted; he stared into Bobby's eyes; "_You _killed Isobel Richardson? "Well?" he demanded when Bobby wouldn't answer. He looked between the Bobby and Virginia; "Someone better start fucking talking because I don't know whether you realise it, but Dee's coming after _us _now!"

"You especially, I'm guessing Bobby," said Dean with a wry grin.

"What with you killing her mom and all," said Sam with a shake of his head; "You tell us _everything!" _He turned furious eyes to Virginia; "I'm real sorry about Riley, I am, but you need to start talking too. So why don't we start with why Bobby wants to kill you?"

"Because _I _saw him kill Izzy, that's why! And I'm the only one who knows," answered Ginny. "Do the math."

"She's a lunatic. Now _move, _Dean," Bobby warned.

"Not gonna happen."

"Dee doesn't know?" Sam asked.

Ginny shook her head; "Dee thinks her mom dumped her with her grandparents and left." She glared at Bobby; "Don't know how a three year old managed to make it back to England all by herself though." Tears spilled from her eyes as she tried to step towards Bobby; "I _begged _you not to kill her! Why did you think that was! Izzy never went _anywhere _without Dee! Tell me, did you kill her in _front_ of Dee? Did you?"

"Jesus Christ…" muttered Sam.

"Don't you twist this around, bitch! _You _started this! _You _killed Riley before she took her first breath! Tell them what you and Isobel did! Tell _Dean_ what you did to Riley!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about, asshole!" Ginny yelled.

"And your accent's slipping," said Dean, nodding to Sam as he turned to Ginny and raised his pistol; Sam keeping his gun trained on Bobby, covering his brother. "What's he mean? _Tell _me," he ordered when she didn't answer.

"She used Jack to get pregnant. The child was to be a sacrifice," Bobby answered. "_That's _what she did. I believe you've met the offering."

"You think this is funny?" asked Sam angrily.

"I _think _you boys have been played," said Bobby. He looked at Dean; "Riley's got to you like _she _got to Jack; she _marked _you, boy." He motioned to Virginia; "So unless I kill _her,_ you boys are gonna have one powerful bitch on your asses."

"Been there, killed that," shrugged Dean.

"You're not killing anyone _else, _Bobby," said Sam as stepped towards the man. "Now who _exactly _are you talking about?"

"Ask her," Bobby motioned to Ginny with his pistol; "She's the one that sacrificed her daughter."

"I _never _sacrificed my daughter!" yelled Virginia. "And tell _me, _Bobby! If Cin's …gone…where the _hell _is She? She should've been knocking on the door by now, shouldn't She? You've got it all wrong. It's _not _Cinnamon! It's _Dee!"_

"You _would _say that," spat Bobby.

"To protect Cin? What good does that do now?" She brushed angrily at her tears; "And if Cin was meant to be the _sacrifice, _as you so nicely put it, where _is _She? _Where, _Bobby!"

"She _who!" _yelled Dean; _"Her_ this!_ She _that! Who the fuck are you two talking about?"

"You haven't _told _them?" asked Ginny.

"You tell Riley?" laughed Bobby. "Didn't think so. Wonder if she knew how you'd betrayed her?" He asked as he took a step towards her.

"Stay there, Bobby," Sam ordered.

"_Answer _me!" Dean yelled into Virginia's face.

"Sybil," Ginny finally replied.

Dean shook his head; "No, sybils are prophetesses', they don't…" started Dean.

"She said _Sybil, _not 'sybils', Dean," interrupted Sam. He glanced at Virginia; "You mean…"

Ginny nodded; "From the 'antiquities'."

"And what's this got to do with Riley?" asked Dean.

"It's got _nothing _to do with Cin!" Ginny shouted. "It's _Dee!"_

"Bullshit!" Bobby yelled; "_You _were the one chosen to deliver the sacrifice!"

"You really _are _an idiot!"

"Tell me you didn't perform the ceremony!" Bobby shouted. "_Tell _me Isobel Richardson wasn't going to rip Riley right out of you to bring _Her _forth!"

Ginny laughed; it was a laugh bordering on madness; "Yeah, Izzy performed the ceremony on me and she was the one that picked Jack…"

"Start making sense, Virginia," Dean interrupted ; "Me and Sam aren't up on all the secrets and lies of the young and fucking _reckless!"_

"Don't you listen to her, boy."

"Bobby, right about now I'll listen to anything." He nodded to Virginia; "Speed it up."

"Izzy lied to me, but you have to understand why." She sighed; "I figured out later why Izzy had chosen Jack to be Cin's father; he'd killed the leader of a cult Izzy was in, a couple of years before…"

"You don't know what you're talking about," hissed Bobby.

"You need to learn to shut up!" Ginny retorted. "You _listen _to me and you'll understand! And then _maybe _you have a chance at saving them!"

"That's just awesome," deadpanned Sam.

Ginny looked at Dean; pain etched clearly in her eyes; "Cin didn't tell me much about you Dean, but she smiled when she said your name. _Please, _just _listen _to me."

Dean stared hard a Ginny; looking for any sign of lies or deception, but all he saw was aching loss and defeat in her eyes. He nodded slowly; "Tell it."

She nodded; "This cult leader, he worshipped Sybil. I realised years later that he was a demon, Jack wouldn't have killed him otherwise…" she shook her head; "Jim Jones had _nothing _on this asshole. After Jack killed him, the rest of the cult committed suicide…well all but one. Izzy. That prick had planned it...like a safety-net kind of thing."

"You need to put this on fast-forward, Virginia," Sam interrupted.

"I'm trying. A sacrifice had been promised from a member of the cult and Izzy was the last one left…and she was pregnant with Dee at the time. If she killed herself, that would mean killing Dee and she couldn't, she _loved _her. But it was a child that had been promised. Izzy was desperate. She figured if she could just find a replacement, Dee would be safe. And as she believed Jack had put her in this position, he'd do nicely."

"And that's where you came in," Dean said with disgust; he shook his head at her; "There's no way you're an innocent in this, no way."

Ginny shook her head; "I'm not," she brushed as the tears came again; "But Cinnamon... was…and so is Dee. Don't you understand? Dee never asked for this either. The ceremony was done, yes, but I didn't know that Izzy wanted Cin as a sacrifice; I was young and naïve and Izzy was…Izzy."

"Tell them what you did, bitch," Bobby spat.

"I didn't do what Izzy wanted…the ceremony…I …yeah…but Dee was in the house at the time. She was _in _the room, I don't know for how long, but she was there and she was…terrified. I've never seen fear like that before, so she'd seen enough." She shook her head; "_Pario a parvulus'…_" she whispered.

"Bring forth the child," said Dean and Sam in unison.

Ginny nodded; "Dee." She looked at Bobby; "I never promised Cin, I _wouldn't. _And not just because I loved her, wanted her; but I was never part of the cult. When you killed Izzy, you ensured Dee was marked for Sybil. It's _always _been Dee, don't you see?"

"You see Dean's neck?" Bobby seethed. "Your _daughter _did that! She tried to…"

"How many times do I have to _tell _you!" Dean yelled; "Riley didn't try to kill me! It was _Dee _who had her hands round my neck!"

Ginny put a hand on Dean's arm and he turned to her; "How'd she die?" she asked softly; "Tell me how my baby died."

Dean shook his head; "No."

"Dean, _please. _I _need _to know and ….and…_he'll_ …understand it's not Cin. _Please." _Dean hesitated. _"Please, _Dean."

"Car accident," he said quietly. "Jack's truck rolled."

"She…she…straight away?" Ginny stammered and Dean shook his head slowly. "Dean…" Ginny pleaded.

"_Don't_, Dean," said Sam firmly.

Dean looked between Sam and Ginny; his gaze flicking from eyes that glared at him not to answer, to ones that desperately begged for one. "Fire," he finally said.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed as Virginia broke down sobbing.

"How bad?" Bobby asked as he lowered his pistol, a frown creasing his brow as he put the gun at the small of his back.

"Are you fucking serious?" asked Dean; his grip tightening on his colt as he noticed the sudden change in Bobby's demeanour.

"Dean…son, tell me," he urged softly. "How bad?"

"I don't know who you are any more," Dean spat in disgust, taking a step towards Bobby and shoving him against the wall.

"You need to explain it to me, Dean…"

"Why? So you can gloat?"

"_No. _So I can figure out what the hell's going on!"

Dean laughed nastily; "But you've got it all figured out, _Bobby." _He took a predatory step towards him; "I mean, this is _exactly _what you wanted wasn't it? Riley's….gone, so now it's just Dee to deal with right?"

"Who shot you?" Ginny interrupted suddenly.

Sam looked at Virginia; she was barely holding it together. "Dee." He looked at Bobby; "I'm positive."

"Then you should be dead," Ginny stated matter-of-factly. "Dee doesn't miss," she paused; "Unless she means to." She looked at Bobby; "But then Dee's not the one behind this is she?" she stood, nobody stopping her as she went to the porch and slammed the door behind her.

"Dean, you _need _to tell me about Riley," Bobby insisted. "The way she died…if it's the way I think then she may have…"

"The fire ate her alive!" Dean quietly hissed into his face. "Happy? She tried to escape but she couldn't…_" _he punched the wall next to Bobby's head. "She _couldn't."_

"Alive? You're sure?"

"For fucks _sake, _Bobby!" Sam yelled; "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"Was she _alive?"_ he asked urgently.

"Yes," Sam finally answered. "You're an asshole," he added.

"And Dee was there? No doubt?" Bobby asked.

"She fucking well shot, Sammy!"

"Grab your gear," he pushed Dean. "Go!"

Dean pushed him back; "_I'm _going after Dee."

"No, _I _am. _You're _going to save Riley."

Dean put one on Bobby's chin; slamming him back into the wall, his head smacking loudly against the wood. He raised his fist again; rage tearing through him; "You _ever _make a joke about…"

It was Bobby's turn to slam Dean against the wall; he pushed his face inches from Dean's "She's not dead, boy," he raged back; "Dee played _you _this time."

_**To be continued…**_


	13. Windmills of my Mind

A/N: HA! Bet you thought it would never get here! Ahem. Sorry this took so long, folks, but I think my muse and the pc faerie are in cahoots. This is not a good thing…and neither is saying 'cahoots' come to think of it, but onwards and upwards… or downwards. I never can tell.

Hope you enjoy - and, as usual, this chapter is rated for language…and maybe some gore. Okay, there's gore. You'd have found out pretty quickly anyway.

_(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural. The following story, and the characters of Riley and Dee belong to me.)_

* * *

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Thirteen.**

_**Thursday, 1.01pm**_

_"Eenie-meenie-miney-moe. Catch a puppet by the toe. If it squeals, kill it slow. Eenie-meenie-miney-moe."_

She tore into the bloodied muscle, her fingers ripping into the organ as the last of the ancient words spewed from her. The maniacal giggle and nonsensical mutterings at her side were becoming a distraction. A minor one, but a distraction nonetheless.

_"Eenie-meenie-miney-moe. Catch a puppet by the toe. If it squeals, kill it slow. Eenie-meenie-miney-moe."_

She tore the heart in two, the rending of flesh bringing a smile to her lips, a fire to her eyes. So many _puppets _with which to play. Her smile widened, who would be her next choice? Who would she manoeuvre into perfect position? Who would she torment next?

The heart no longer ran with blood, she dug her fingers deeper, squeezing every last stinking drop from it as she decided her next move in this game of chess.

_"Eenie-meenie-miney-moe. Catch a puppet by the toe. If it squeals, kill it slow. Eenie-meenie-miney-moe."_

_Eenie-meenie-miney-moe, indeed,_ she thought to herself, smiling as she selected her next pawn. She was slowly bringing them all together, toying with them as they'd toyed with her. Teasing her with promises of life and dominion before ripping them away, forcing her to wait until her promised one was ready once more. She would not be denied again. She was owed. And each one of them would pay their dues.

She dropped the ravaged heart, the fire engulfing the offering. The muscle hissed as thick tendrils churned darkly from the pyre, spiralling frenziedly in and around itself as it fought skywards. The murmurs gurgling within the inky maelstrom were a jumbled mess of disjointed words in disjointed voices, a swirling mass of half-finished vows and empty promises in the yearned-for whispers of the dead.

The scream of the chosen voice as it burst to the fore brought an excitable shiver to her. A fire-like ecstasy burned through her as she watched the solemnly hollow words twist into the peacefully blue sky. She raised crimson fingers to ruby lips, the sweet taste of fear-filled blood sliding deliciously over her tongue as she watched the words begin their toxic journey, carried to a vulnerable mind on jasmine-scented winds.

The night would belong to her.

* * *

_**Thursday, 1.51pm.**_

Warm afternoon sun drifted into the yard, the slowly shifting beams casting long, fiery shadows across the patchwork grass. The air was charged with the familiar pre-hunt electricity, only this time it held a darker edge. They were hunting one of their own - an unwilling clean-up crew forced to ensure an act of betrayal committed thirty years ago was seen through to its murderous end.

They'd been played beautifully.

Sam studied Dean carefully as he tried to pass this realisation onto his brother. But no amount of reasoning, soft or loud, seemed to get through. He was pretty damn sure nothing was.

"Are you even _listening,_ Dean!"

_The voices that buzzed in and around his head were nothing but white noise. A now muffled drone that darted about him, trying to find a way in, a way to get to him. But he was onto them. He knew what they were trying to do, knew what they were after. They wouldn't get it. They couldn't steal his focus. It wasn't theirs. It was his. No one else's. His. _

_**Mine.**_

Sam knew the look his brother was wearing. The determined set of his jaw meant there was no changing his mind, the deliberate selection of weapons leaving little doubt as to the outcome. But it was the almost glazed look about his brother's eyes that bothered Sam. This was more than the autopilot he'd seen Dean operate under before, it was almost as if Dean was being ...he shook his head, nah.

"Dean, look at me, dude."

_His vision was narrowed – he could see hands at the end of a dark tunnel, moving with perfect precision over weapon after weapon. Assembling an arsenal. The hands looked disjointed, like they belonged to someone else, but the fluid movements and ease with which they checked and loaded each purposefully selected instrument meant they could only be his. His hands. His pistols. His shotguns. His rifles. His._

_**Mine.**_

Sam stepped closer, casting Dean's arsenal in shadow, "Come on, man," he pleaded, putting a hand to his brother's shoulder. His frustration rose, and he tightened his grip when he got no response, "For Christ's sake, Dean!" he yelled, trying to get his brother's attention, but none of it registered. Dean's focus never wavered.

"Dean, _listen _to me!"

_The attention seeking grabs to his shoulders were faint annoyances, nothing more. They wouldn't stop him. They wouldn't even slow him down. He grabbed his bags and slammed the Landy's back doors. He would take Dee down with her own weapons. Part of his mind registered that bad cliché, but all he was concerned about was killing the bitch that had shot his brother. His baby brother. His responsibility. His._

_**Mine.**_

Sam kicked out at the ground, swearing as he followed Dean. This was all going to shit. The minute Bobby had sworn Riley was alive, Dean hadn't said a word; he'd stared long and hard at Bobby before pushing the man from him and slamming through the front door. He hadn't slowed since. "Just slow down for a second…" He looked towards Bobby for help, but he was still on the porch arguing with Virginia. This was ridiculous, and no goddamn way to go into a hunt…especially one like this.

"Dean!"

_His boots kicked up dust as he stalked towards the Impala, the ghost of a smile touching his lips as he spied his baby. They were on the hunt again. He threw the bags into the trunk, slamming it shut with comforting finality. It would end now. And it would be ended by him. No one else. This was his hunt. Not Bobby's. Not Sam's. His._

_**Mine.**_

Sam blocked Dean's path to the wheel, bracing himself for anything. "If you think you're doing this alone, think again, dude." There was no way in hell he was letting Dean run solo on this one. He wouldn't let his brother carry this hunt, this _kill _on his shoulders alone.

"This isn't just your hunt, its _mine _too. You hear me, Dean? _Mine. _"

_He didn't notice that one word that kept whispering through him, but when echoed by his brother, it brought it to life. His lips silently formed the word with each possessive caress, the seductive mantra weaving the strings that would command his actions from here on in. His actions. His decisions. His._

_**Mine.**_

Sam stood his ground - his height advantage meant little against his brother, especially when Dean was like this. But there was little else he could do. Time was against them and they were operating with information that was suspicious at best. They were going in, and they were going in blind. Awesome.

"Dean," he gritted his teeth, "you're not going anywhere."

_He barely noticed that the word now carried its own desperate urgency. But it was reflected in the tension that was building in his shoulders, in the clenching of his fists each time it sighed through him. That one word that had been sealed in blood last night, each pulse through his barely healed neck punctuating the offering, a gentle reminder of what was at stake here. Dee was going after Riley. And no one messed with Riley. His throat pulsed. No one._

_**Mine.**_

Sam shifted his weight as we watched the tension build within his brother - they couldn't go anywhere without some kind of plan. It was suicide. He took a deep breath, if Dean didn't listen to him this time, he was gonna have to put him on his ass. More fun.

He took a careful step towards his brother, "Dean, we need to think this through carefully. We're not going after an amateur here. This is _her _domain, _hers, _not ours." He raised his hands, "We're going, I get that, but if we don't do this properly," he paused, "then Riley's not gonna be the only one that's dead, dude."

Sam studied his brother, looking for some kind of sign, anything that would tell him Dean had heard him. He wanted some kind of reaction from the barely controlled time-bomb that was ticking-down in front of him. His gut tightened and his frown deepened as Dean suddenly came to life. His jaw relaxed and his shoulders fell to their familiar slouch, his eyes now holding the mischievous glint Sam was used to.

"We're not playing by her rules, Sammy." He gave his brother his trademark grin, "We're playing by ours."

* * *

_**Thursday, 4.37pm.**_

The crimson droplet pushed its way out of her, hanging precariously over the lip of flesh before beginning its slow meander down her skin. She watched transfixed as the drop forged its own path, fighting for independence from the more zealous streams around it. But it couldn't deny its fate. The unyielding pull of the source was undeniable, and the weaker stream was swallowed by the stronger, its independence slowly disappearing. Its will now that of its master.

She raised her hand, her finger pushing the flesh aside as it bumped over her ribs, the blood now flowing steadily. She was mesmerised. But something wasn't right. She remembered blood. A lot of blood. More blood than this. But not here…the wound wasn't here...it was…

Her gaze flicked up as a vaguely familiar sound cracked through her world. She knew that sound. Why did she know that sound? Her eyes dropped to the wound again, the flesh peeling back around her finger…but it wasn't a finger she remembered in the wound, it was a … She frowned as that sound rang out again. She should know what that was.

It was starting to bother her.

She looked back to the fleshy mess, not sure whether to smile or frown. Smile, yes - the blood was now a river…like it had been… like she remembered. But 'no' because her chest was heaving, her lungs now burning, sweat beaded her brow as she tried to catch her breath, the muscles in her legs screaming for reprieve. Why was that?

Her eyes snapped up at the now all-too-familiar unfamiliar sound. Crack. That was it. That was the sound. Her focus was drawn again to the wound in her side, and there was no indecision this time as her brow furrowed. She wondered at the dirt and debris that was now stuck in and around the flesh. Seconds ago it was a startlingly bright mess of pinks, whites and reds, now it was tainted. Tainted…she was…

She flinched this time as the shot rang out, her vision swimming as she tried to block the searing pain that ripped through her side. She shook her head, brushed the stinging tears from her eyes and took a steadying breath. She cracked her neck, the pain in her side now forgotten as she tightened her grip on her rifle. She made a slight adjustment to her position over the cabin, the leaf-litter crunching underneath her. It was time to see what Riley was up to.

The rifle was snug against her shoulder as she put her eye to the scope, quickly scanning the carnage below. He was right. But he was always right. The proof was laid out in fatal confirmation for her. Riley would stop at nothing to uncover her secret - the three dead cops attested to that. And if Riley found out before it was time, she'd lose everything. And she wouldn't. Not this time. Not again.

But Riley wasn't the only one who could undo everything. There were three more who stood in her way. Three more that needed to be dealt with. She smiled to herself. It was time to go fishing. And she knew just where to find her bait. She'd heard the cabin door slam, Riley's distinctive yells from within barely drowning out those of another.

She nodded to the faint whispering in her ear, smiled softly at the gentle fingers that ran down her cheek. She knew he was right. She rose from her position, slinging her rifle over her shoulder as she advanced on the cabin, his words now the foundation on which she built her plan. Riley was injured, she was weak and she was vulnerable. The perfect prey. Prey she would dangle in front of her other targets_. _She would exploit her enemy's weaknesses - guilt, righteousness and love were powerful weapons, and she would use them as lethally as she used all her others.

She allowed the shadow of a smile to touch her lips as she drew up behind the cabin; the brothers Winchester were each other's ammunition. Hit one, hit the other. And inside was a way to get to one of them. And where one went, so did the other. The old man? He wouldn't let them out of his sight.

It was all falling perfectly into place. Just like he said it would. She nodded to the lips that whispered against her ear as she crept silently up the back stairs, her pistols nestled snugly in her hands. The right side of her mouth twitched as she heard Riley's muffled voice through the door.

The twitch turned into the ghost of a smile as she heard a shot ring out. He was right. He was always right.

The meek shall _not _inherit the earth.

* * *

_**Thursday, 4.33pm**_

Riley studied the cop in front of her - just shy of six foot, military-cut dark brown hair, and hate-filled brown eyes. He was grinding his teeth, his hand closing ever tighter around the scruff of her t-shirt as he tried to control his breathing. He was weighing up whether he could get away with a 'resisting arrest' beating or not.

"Do it," Riley challenged quietly, subtly shifting her weight onto the balls of her feet. "You know there'll be no witnesses." She leaned in, softly coaxing the decision from him. "Do it," she whispered. _"Do it."_

He smiled as he raised his fist.

So did she.

Riley winked at the cop as his arm started its downward arc, her smile widening when she saw him hesitate. It was just a fraction of a second, but it was all she needed. She pushed off her feet, catching the cop off-guard and breaking his nose. He stumbled back, muffling a yell as he put a hand to his face. She'd timed the head-butt perfectly. She dropped the surprised cop at her side with a knee to his balls and waited for 'broken-nose' to regroup. It didn't take long.

She took a steadying breath as he roared. Perfect.

He charged.

Okaaay, risky but perfect. But there was no way she was getting into a squad car. No way. She needed this idiot off his game, needed him too pissed to think through what he was doing. She needed that advantage. Hell, she needed any damn advantage she could get right now.

_Wait...wait… _He had to be almost upon her for this to...

She flinched as her world turned red.

The cop slammed into her, the shot that had blown his brains out not stopping his momentum. She was pinned to the truck as his legs pumped once...twice...before his body finally realised it was dead. He slid painfully slowly from her, leaving a bloodied, wet trail in his wake.

Riley dropped, using the cop's body as cover as she slipped under the pick-up. What the _fuck _was going on? What the FUCK was going on!

Her head snapped to her left as the body of the other cop slumped to the ground, his head lolling towards her, his mouth open in protest against the bullet hole that now sat between surprised eyes.

She knew of only one person who could take that shot.

Dee.

Two perfect shots like that? It couldn't be anyone else. It was insane. Like everything else that had been going on. It was fucking insane. Nothing made sense anymore. Up was down, left was right…and Dee was taking out _cops _now? Jesus, Jesus, Jesus….what the _fuck _was going on!

She turned to a yell from the cabin, instinctively shouting her own warning.

"TAKE COVER! TAKE COVER!"

She swore in frustration as she saw a pair of feet hit the ground running, heading towards the slain cops. Her yells were ignored as the man ran recklessly towards the pick-up and into the line of fire.

"Shiiiiiiiit!"

She kicked out at the dirt as another body crashed to the ground. _Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! _She took a shuddering breath. _Think, _Riley! Okay, okay, so that's three down, one to go. Or was that two? Was Dee trying to get her out of this...or was she saving her for last? There's a thinker.

She took a calming breath. Either way, the first thing she had to do was get out of these handcuffs, she'd wasted too much time already. She shifted towards the cop's body, praying the keys were in the only pocket she had access to. _Please, please, please, please..._ She fished around awkwardly, trying not to think about where her hand was. _Please, please, please..._ if the keys weren't in here, she was_..._shit.

Fuck it. She had to move. Dee already was. It wasn't just that she knew how her friend worked, she could tell by the way the last body had hit the ground that Dee was moving, and moving fast - improving her position on her next target. Question was, was it her or the cop inside.

Riley wriggled to the side of the pick-up that was closest to the cabin. Until she knew exactly what was going on, the house was the safest place to be right now. Awesome. Just freakin' awesome. She looked at her run to it - thirty feet, easy as…unless you had a sniper on your arse. Or did she?

She took a deep breath. Only one way to find out.

Rolling from under the pick-up, she got quickly to her feet and sprinted towards the cabin, her heart hammering in her chest as the house seemed to get further and further away instead of closer. Why did that always happen? And why did it always feel like she was running in slow motion? S_top asking questions and RUN, you silly bitch!_

She prayed her knee wouldn't give out as she finally came to within range of the porch and launched herself towards it, her heart skipping a beat when one of the railings disintegrated as she sailed by. Well that answered one question.

She landed heavily, a blinding pain skewering through her ribs as she rolled towards the temporary sanctuary of the door. Half-way there. Dee had taken a shot at her, but she was half-way there. Now all she had to do was figure out a way to get inside without the last cop putting one between _her _eyes. She did a quick body check - no new wounds. She was surprised. Surprised she was still alive and surprised that Dee had missed.

But she was more surprised when the door opened and an arm reached out, dragging her inside and slamming the door behind her.

* * *

_**Thursday, 5.17pm.**_

Sam turned in slow circles, his gaze flicking rapidly between the blood-strewn yard and the tree-line; the unnatural silence that hung over the property and surrounding woods making him tighten his grip on his pistol. He finally looked over to Dean, "Whose rules?"

Dean glanced up from the body of the cop he was crouched over - right between the eyes. He stood slowly, his finger held firm and steady on the trigger of his pistol, his eyes taking in everything around him. Three dead cops, a partially open cabin door and no time.

He glanced at Sam and motioned towards the house. They kept low, guns at the ready as they moved quickly across the yard. Dean noted the boot impressions in the dirt and the destroyed porch railing as he made his way up the stairs. _Hit or miss? _he wondered as he stole across the porch, Sam covering his back.

They flanked the door, a quick glance and nod to his brother and Dean toed it open. He stepped into the doorway, blinking just once as he looked down the barrel of his pistol at what had once been a man. "We got one more," he whispered as he moved cautiously into the room.

"Jesus..."

"Sweep first," Dean said quietly, motioning towards the back of the cabin.

Sam stepped carefully around the blood-splatter and followed his brother down the hallway, Dean checking the rooms on the left, while he took the right. Nothing.

"We can't have missed her by much, Dean. The bodies are still war…" Sam whispered.

"She was here," Dean interrupted, turning from the room. "They both were."

"This is bad shit, Dean," Sam whispered as he followed his brother back down the hallway. "Whole other level kind of bad shit now."

"Now?" asked Dean as he stepped back into the abattoir. His eyes moved expertly over the room. "We're missing something," he muttered.

"Dean, we don't have time for this!" Sam hissed. "When do you think those guys last radioed in?" He went to the window and glanced outside - they didn't have time for a proper search and they sure as shit didn't have time to play guessing games in a slaughterhouse. He turned his attention to the mess that was Henry Bowman; you didn't need to be a genius to see this had been done to effect maximum impact. There wasn't one part of the body that had been spared. And perfectly positioned like that? Whoever did this was playing with them. But _which_ one of them?

"Dean, if we're caught here, we're screwed."

Ignoring Sam's protests, Dean moved cautiously towards the seated corpse - he could see the slow torture behind the frenzied final attack, the brutality inflicted before the blessed release of death. Whoever had done this had taken their time, taken pleasure in it. He took a shallow breath before glancing inside the man's chest; they'd also taken something else. "What a surprise."

Sam could barely drag his eyes from Henry Bowman's new necktie, he'd never seen one before. He didn't want to see another. "And someone didn't want him talking."

Dean's stared dully at his brother, "Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"How can this not freak you out, Dean! There are four dead cops here! And not just dead either. Executed. We're not just talking supernatural shit anymore. We need to get out of here and we need to get the hell out _now."_ He grabbed Dean by the scruff of his jacket and pushed him towards the door.

Dean shrugged out of Sam's grasp, "We're _missing _something, Sam." He turned in circles, scanning the room again, "A big something," he mumbled. He spied what looked like smeared finger marks along the wall near Bowman's broken fingers. He crouched, "Something was…rubbed out, I think."

"I swear to Christ, dude…"

"Okay, okay," Dean sighed as he rose. "Can't read it anyway." He knew they needed to get out of here, but something was bugging the shit out him - he frowned as he headed towards the door, there was a big freakin' elephant in the room and it wasn't dead-man-sitting. Three dead cops and…he stopped short, Sam cussing as he walked into the back of him.

"Fuck _me,_ Dean!"

"Where's the other one?" Dean asked softly. He turned to Sam. "These guys ride in pairs, Sammy. So where the hell's the other one?"

"We'll add it to the list of missing things!" Sam angered. "Now lets _go!" _

Dean pushed Sam back, stepping past him towards the door and checking outside. "Keep low and move fast, Sammy. Stay close," Dean ordered as he moved quickly across the porch and into the yard. Dee could be anywhere in these woods, they were easy targets and her aim was nowhere near off. Question was, would she shoot to kill them just _yet_.

The games had only just begun.

Sam followed Dean across the yard, his eyes moving constantly. The threat could damn well come from anywhere. He glanced at the Chevy as he passed and stopped suddenly, taking a step back. He cocked his head left then right as he stared at the driver's side window. _That's not right…_

Dean turned when he heard his brother stop, swearing to himself when he saw Sam standing goddamn tall in the middle of the yard, staring at the Chevy like he was freakin' 'Rain Man'. He ran back and grabbed Sam by the arm, "Now who's dragging their ass," he angered. He pushed Sam towards the gate, cuffing him upside the head for good measure.

"No, look…" Sam insisted, pushing back at Dean as he pointed at the window, his finger following the barely discernible but dripping outline. He dropped his gaze to the almost faceless cop at his feet before following the blood trail back up to the window. "Riley was standing right here when it happened. The cops had her, Dean." He pointed to the cop, "And this poor bastard was the first shot." He turned to his brother, "She must have been covered in him."

The subtle clenching of his jaw was the only change in Dean's demeanour. _**Mine. **_He pushed at Sam again. "Like you said, Sammy. We're caught here, we're screwed."

"No, Dean! This changes everything!"

"It doesn't change a damn thing," he said through clenched teeth. _**Mine. **_"Not a damn thing." He grabbed Sam again, "Now get your…"

He dropped his hold on his brother, glancing quickly at Sam as he grabbed his phone from his jacket. He snapped it open, he didn't need to look at the caller ID to know who was on the other end.

"Where the hell is Riley, _bitch."_

"_Dean, Dean, Dean. Why all the hostility?"_

"Maybe because you're a psycho bitch with sociopathic tendencies, but I'm just thinking out loud here."

He returned the punch Sam gave him as Dee's throaty laugh filtered through the line – there was no mistaking the undercurrent of madness. It held its own shady presence behind that familiar sound and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

_"Come on, old son, you can do better than that."_ Her laugh snaked through the phone again, _"It's easy to recognise your own kind, Dean."_ Her voice was barely a whisper as it grazed across the line, forcing him to listen closely. "_To see so plainly in others what you won't acknowledge in yourself?"_ He could hear the smile in her voice, _"Kindred spirits, Dean. Admit it and I may just answer your question."_

He could hear the taunt in her voice, picture the look on her face - she didn't have Riley, she was toying with him. Well two could play at that game. "Kindred spirits?" He laughed softly, "Would you like fries with your delusion?"

_"Aaah, but it's not me that's been deluded, Yankee. Just take a look around you…"_ he heard her smile, _"G'orn…"_

His heart skipped a beat, his senses going into overdrive as he kept everything else about him relaxed. He turned slowly, catching Sam's eye as he scanned the woods, "I'm looking, and this is some hole you've dug for yourself." He shook his head with a laugh, "Dee, Dee, Dee," he tutted, "taking out cops now?" He laughed again, dropping his voice to a harsh whisper, "Didn't your mother teach you anything?"

He ignored Sam's furious eyes and mumbled curses - he was drawn completely to the silence that screamed through the other end of the line. The laugh started slowly, slithering through the connection, and Dean's blood ran cold as he heard the madness shifting darkly behind the earthy laugh he was used to. The sudden disintegration of the laugh and return to the menacing silence brought the twitch of a smile to his lips, confirming he'd hit home.

_**Mine.**_

"_What are the voices telling you, Winchester?" _

The last question was barely a whisper, but it dripped venom from every word. The click of the phone disconnecting letting him know she'd hit back. He looked at his brother,

"Run, Sammy…"

* * *

**Thursday, 5.28pm.**

Riley charged through the thick scrub, a low-hanging branch scraping painfully across her check as she slid down the embankment and raced up the other side. Every ragged breath tore into her side, every step sent shooting pain through her knee, but she couldn't stop. She could hear the branches breaking behind her, the crunching of leaf-litter under fast moving feet.

She moved deeper into the woods, she needed the shadows, she needed the darkness as her ally. She took almost unseen paths that would best cover her trail as she travelled further into the forest. She needed a place to hide, to regroup, but she was running out of time. She had to stay alive until she could get back to Bobby's, get back to Dean. She needed to get back to Dean. She had to stay on the move until night fell, darkness would level the playing field…if she made it that far.

She shook her head in denial, no, she wasn't going out like this. Not handcuffed and on the run. But she understood she was on her own now. The two people she relied on most were gone. One was dead, the other hunting her. She kicked angrily at a tree as she passed, Jack would know what to do, he always knew what to do. But he wasn't here. She had to live this nightmare alone.

She was only vaguely aware of the words that slipped from her lips as she cut back and forth through the woods, the almost forgotten lullaby rising from the depths of her memories and finding their own voice.

"_Salt along windows, holy water for demons. Bright shiny daggers and guns are my weapons. Vampires and djinns, my sword I will swing. These are a few of my favourite things."_

She burst through thick scrub and ducked around a large tree, scraping her shoulder as she began a clumsy, frenzied climb up a densely-foliaged foothill. She remembered her father singing his version of the song to her when she'd woken from a nightmare as a child, rocking her as he taught her what she needed to stay alive. It calmed her. It had always calmed her.

"_Brown wooden stakes and silver tipped bullets. Rifles and shotguns for hunting my targets. Machetes and latin and bow I will bring. These are a few of my favourite things."_

Her breathing was coming in ragged rasps, burning through her bruised throat as the words were now pushed out on exhausted breaths.

_"My favourite things…"_

She had to keep going, she could hear the crashing of undergrowth behind her as she was hunted.

_"Favourite things..."_

She scrambled over loose earth, slipping a little before regaining her balance.

_"My favourite..."_

She couldn't get caught, not now. She had to get to Dean before they got to her.

_"Mine." _

He was coming for Dean.

_"Mine."_

* * *

**_Thursday, 4.59pm._**

Bobby looked up from his hands, "You're sure."

Ginny nodded slowly, "It's their best chance." She sighed softly, "It may be their only chance." She looked Bobby in the eye, "I know what I saw."

Bobby stood, for the first time in a long time he felt old. "You understand if something happens to my boys…"

Ginny stood and pushed back her shoulders, nodding decisively. "I'll stand still while you do it."

**_To be continued…_**


	14. Hunter Hunted

(A/N: This chapter is rated for language. Again, apologies for the delay and thanks for reading!)

_(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural. The following story, and the characters of Riley and Dee belong to me.)_

* * *

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Fourteen.**

The dark blanket of night drifted across the earth, slowly devouring everything it touched. Ashen clouds inched across the failing sky, their ghostly tendrils seeming to reach for the moon, looking to lock heavens prize in its skeletal grip.

Icy winds cut through the trees, wrapping around branches and dragging at them until they groaned in protest under the invisible assault. The harsh whispers of rustling leaves filled the chill night air as the forest floor was whipped into a whirlwind of dust and debris, concentrated gusts clearing a path for the ancient power that stalked the land.

She pulled the voices of the dead behind her, wearing them like a dark screaming shroud as she walked the shadows, her journey through the forest filled with hateful excitement. Every step was leading her tantalisingly closer to her destiny, but she was unable to feel the earth beneath her feet. She could see the scoured ground through them, hear the soft crunching of leaves under her disciples' tread as the leaf-litter closed behind her, but until she was fully reunited with this world, she could be nothing more than a spectator here.

Powerfully ancient ground was the only place she could participate. Tapping into untamed energy brewing beneath long forgotten tracts of land was the only way to temporarily step into this world. But tonight her destination was a glade that held primeval power. It was magic that held no allegiance, weaving its power with that of the conduit. It was a dangerous trade but one that would bring about her supremacy.

It was here she would be reborn.

Blood and sacrifice would herald her birth. She had an appetite for it now. The taste of blood, the screams for mercy were the fuel that kept her alive. And she would feed her hunger as she gathered her flock. A malevolent smile touched her lips, her new disciples would lead her congregation on its crusade, and they would bathe in the blood of those that failed to bow down to her.

She allowed another smile to burden her lips, her quest to seek out the one owed to her had arrived with bonuses, and with it, brought about a change of plans. She would enslave her 'promised one' instead of sacrificing her - that honour would be saved for Lilith's murderer. The killing of her friend at her own hands would ensure absolute submission, and it would bring about the crumpling of one of the men's minds – another disciple, another powerfulone.

It was this unexpected turn of events that had brought about the change of plans. It was risky, dangerous even, but she would take the gamble. The energy held within each of them brought a delicious shiver to her - she wanted to harness their power, not take it as her own, that would serve little purpose. No, she would make them embrace the darkness that sat coiled inside them, and she would be the master that unleashed them on the world.

But she had to be careful, separately they were an untapped well of so-called righteous vengeance; together they were a formidable force. She had seen what they'd done in Vermont and Nevada, she was under no illusions about their strength. That's why she'd needed them away from each other, why she'd orchestrated a change of allegiance amongst them. Subtle whispers into pliable minds in longed for voices of the departed. Using their hidden yearnings against them. It had been so easy.

She flicked a filmy hand, four howling tendrils ripping free of her accursed cloak, screaming as they tore into the night, seeking out the minds of their prey…minds they would skewer into and tear apart from the inside.

She smiled as she took another step towards her birth, she would gather her disciples, she would shepherd her herd and she would do it with a bloodied fist. She would amass a following that would be unrivalled and unstoppable.

Mankind had discarded her to myth and she would not stop until she was restored to her rightful place - the worlds on their knees before her.

She was Sybil, and they would heed the prophet's warning.

_Dies iræ. _

Day of Wrath.

* * *

Dean and Sam hit the treeline, crashing through the underbrush, both raising their arms over their heads as part of a nearby tree exploded, then another and another. Dean slammed Sam to the ground behind a small grouping of fallen rocks, covering his brother with his body as two more shots rang out.

He finally pushed Sam up against the rock face and sat beside him, brushing splinters from his hair as he looked at his brother. "You alright?"

"Still breathing," said Sam, chancing a glance over the rocks.

"She's up that way," Dean motioned with his head. "The car's too far away to be any good. We head up and east, try and get above her before dark – take her out that way."

"Take her out with _what _Dean? Two pistols and a couple of knives?" He shook his head with a laugh, "You're outta your mind."

Dean's jaw set, "Stay here," he ordered, turning and sprinting back towards the cabin.

"DEAN!" Sam yelled, cursing his brother as he watched him charge back the way they'd come. He stared, pissed-off and dumbfounded, as Dean raced to the nearest police car, wrenched the door open and grabbed a shotgun from inside.

"_Don't do it, don't do it," _Sam muttered then sighed in resigned frustration as he watched his brother pause briefly, take a breath before racing around the squad car, quickly gathering what weapons he could from the dead cops.

Sam's stomach was churning as he watched Dean run back to him in what looked like slow motion. He grabbed his brother by the scruff of his jacket, yanking him behind the rocks, his face flushed with anger. "Are you fu…"

"Not now, Sam," Dean interrupted, pushing his brother's hand from him. "Dee's already moving." Passing Sam two more pistols and keeping the shotgun and a pistol for himself, he glanced over the rocks. "Stay at my back Sammy," he instructed as he stood, "We got the advantage now."

Sam shook his head as he scampered up the slope after his brother, "And how do you figure that?"

"Dee's chasing Riley but she knows we're coming. She can't deal with us and Riley at the same time."

Sam let out a quiet laugh, "And what makes you so sure she's not dealing with us right now, Dean?"

Dean grinned over his shoulder at baby brother, "I got the weapons didn't I?"

* * *

Riley was leaning back against a large cluster of boulders trying to catch her breath. She didn't know how long she'd been running, it seemed like forever so she guessed that was about right. But if she didn't stop and regroup, she'd fall and not get up. Ever. And God did she need a drink.

She looked around, trying to see past the growing shadows, listening for anything that seemed out of the ordinary here. A short laugh escaped her. Here? She had no fucking idea where 'here' was, and at this stage she didn't care. She was running for her life. Literally. In dense forest in unknown territory and with darkness fully falling in less than an hour – there was no getting past it, she was on her own 'til morning.

At least darkness would level the playing field. She'd stayed alive long enough to change the rules. She allowed herself a small smile. Dee wasn't the only one with a specialty. Riley knew Dee wouldn't have brought any night-vision gear with her, she wouldn't have expected this to have taken this long. _'Travel light'_ - Dee lived by it. She'd forced Dee to switch weapons, bringing the fight closer. And this was Riley specialty. She was faster and more quiet on her feet - and at close range, she was lethal.

Dee knew this and would do one of two things: get to her before night fell completely, or taunt her for the next twelve hours before moving in at dawn.

Riley not only had to out-last Dee, she had to out-think her. And all she had was the dagger in her boot. While she'd managed, excruciatingly painfully, to get her hands in front of her, she was still cuffed. It made her job a little more difficult, but not impossible.

She took a deep breath as she scanned her surroundings; time to head back down the mountain. Dee would be taking the second option. No doubt. The taunts had started when Dee had splattered cop number one over her. Numbers two and three were just to push the point home. Dee could kill her any time she wanted. Now Dee was just gonna play with her 'til she could do this face to face. Up close and _very _personal.

A small smile touched Riley's lips, _let the games begin, _she thought to herself as she moved almost silently down the mountainside, sticking to the shadows as she negotiated a path she hoped would keep her alive 'til morning.

She just had to stay alive. Her mind blocked out everything else as it slipped into survival mode. Her movements were subtle, barely disturbing her surroundings as she wove her way through the forest. She had to stay alive long enough to get to Dean. She just had to stay alive. Her voice was barely a whisper as she tracked downwards, echoing the voice that whispered through her mind…

_"Salt along windows, holy water for demons. Bright shiny daggers and guns are my weapons. Vampires and djinns, my sword I will swing. These are a few of my favourite things…"_

* * *

Darkness crept up on them, leaving subtle clues in the slow drop in the weather, in the lonely calls of the meadowlark as they settled for the evening and in the shadows that staked greater claim on their surroundings with every step they took.

They moved cautiously but steadily. Speed and stealth were what they needed, and they both knew it. Communication was limited to hand signals or a nod - they didn't need more.

They took turns leading through the scrub, staying close enough to cover each other but far enough away so as not make easy targets of themselves. Hunting and hunted, it kept you on your toes.

Sam moved carefully down a gully, stopping at the bottom and taking a breath. He looked at the slope in front of him, sighed and shook his head as he started up. He'd barely taken two steps before the ground shifted beneath him. He flailed his arms, trying to keep his balance, but the heavy leaf litter betrayed him, slipping under his boots and pitching him backwards.

He lay gasping for breath, cursing to himself before finally getting his elbows underneath him and pushing himself up. He stopped midway, lowering himself slowly to the ground and raising his hands…

"That's right, don't fucking move!" hissed the man, pushing his pistol towards Sam's face.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said Sam, pointing behind the man with a smile.

Dean nestled the shotgun at the base of the cops skull, "Go ahead," he laughed softly, "Make my day."

Sam reached up quickly, snatching the pistol from the cop and turning it on the man. He slid back, getting easily to his feet and glanced at his brother, "Make my day?"

Dean grinned, "Couldn't resist."

"Listen, I'm a cop…" the man interrupted.

"Not a very good one," Dean countered. "That was too easy, dude." He looked at Sam, "I especially liked the…whatsit called? Pirouette?"

"I'm chasing a _prisoner_ and…"

"Shut up." Dean smacked the man across the back of the head, "You were hiding in bushes shitting yourself…"

"And making enough noise to wake the dead," Sam finished.

"First day on the job?" Dean laughed, pushing the man to his knees and going to stand in front of him. He stared incredulously at the look on the cop's face, "You gotta be shitting me."

"I'm a _trained_ pol…"

"Seriously," Dean interrupted. "Your absolute, I'm-a-virgin, first day on the job." He paused, "Like ever."

The cop glared between the two men whose hands he'd so easily played into. He couldn't read them at all and someone he couldn't read was someone who was_ very _dangerous. The one thing he did know was they had weapons and he didn't. "Yes! Okay? Yes!"

Dean looked at his brother.

"No, dude," Sam laughed.

Dean shook his head, "Can you believe this? Can you fucking believe this?" He turned to the man, _"How_ are you still alive?"

"How do you think?" Sam answered.

"They sent a virgin out on a call like that?" said Dean with a laugh. "What exactly did they tell you?" he asked, "And remember who has the guns here."

The cop glared at Dean, finally finding voice when Dean's finger tightened on the trigger.

"Henry rang, said some psycho chick was at his door," he spat.

"And they sent four cops for that." Dean shook his head. "Try again."

"He said she had guns, _asshole! _What else were we supposed to do?"

"Well not what you did," Dean smirked. "You figured out you were played yet?"

"Layla Clapton killed Henry…"

Dean slapped the cop as the familiar whisper sounded through him.

_**Mine.**_

The man stared open-mouthed at Dean, "I'm a cop! You can't…"

Dean slapped him again. "Looks like I can."

"Which way'd she go?" Sam asked, his pistol held in plain sight.

"_Tell _me!" Dean demanded.

"I'm not telling you shit! That bitch is the reason my buddies are dead!"

_**Mine.**_

Dean put him on his ass, reaching down quickly and grabbing the cop by the front of his shirt. He pulled his face to his, "_She _is the reason you're still alive, asshole. She got you out of there, didn't she? She was the one that got you moving. You wanted to stay in the cabin and hide."

"She…"

"Shut the fuck up!" Dean menaced, slamming the man to the ground. "The best thing she did was kick your sorry ass to the kerb. She can move quicker without you."

The cop laughed, "I doubt it." He smiled at Dean, "The handcuffs'll slow her down some I'm guessing."

Dean's pushed his foot down on the cops chest, holding the man to the ground, "You left her _handcuffed?"_

"She was my prisoner!"

Dean looked at his brother.

"No, dude. You can't kill him."

Dean pushed his foot down hard once on the cop's chest before pressing it to the man's wrist, holding him in place. He smiled, "If you don't tell me which way she went, I'll shoot you in the elbow." He nestled the muzzle against the bone, "Won't kill you, but it'll hurt like a sonofabitch and you'll never use it again." He paused, "So," he grinned and applied gentle pressure to the trigger. "Which. Way'd. She. Go."

The cop laughed. "Doesn't matter. Last I heard her, she was singing like the psycho bitch she is!" He laughed, "She's lost it and if she doesn't break her neck in the dark," he smiled nastily, "I'm just waiting for the shot!"

**_Mine._**

Dean grabbed the wannabe-cop by the scruff of the shirt and knocked him out with the butt of his pistol. "Alright then." He stood and pointed, "That way. Asshole couldn't keep his eyes off the trail."

"You sure, Dean?" Sam asked, putting a halting hand on his brother's arm. "You're sure this is the... right …way?"

Sam stared intently at his brother, he was starting to get that sickening feeling in his gut again. They were close to something, something big. He just wasn't sure what…or whom. But one thing he was sure of, was that things were not what they seemed. They never were where he and Dean were concerned. He was …unsettled. He knew that going after Riley was the right thing to do, the only thing to do. But that they more than likely had to kill Dee to do it…he was having a lot of trouble getting past that.

"Dean?"

Dean knew Sam wasn't asking about the trail, knew his brother was having doubts because he didn't fully, one-hundred-and-ten-percent understand what was going on – hell, he didn't either. But what he _did _know was that if he didn't get to Riley soon, there would be no rising from the ashes for her this time.

_**Mine.**_

And the person standing between him and Riley was Dee. Dee, who had left him with no other choice but to go after her, who had forced his hand by going after Sam and Riley. She'd been right all those months ago in Nevada - she _was _their next hunt.

He gave Sam a short smile, turning and starting up the embankment. "Never surer, dude. Now lets hope Dee was close enough to have heard us."

* * *

Dee was pacing the small clearing. Four steps, turn. Four steps, turn. There was no fluidity to her movements. Her step faltered often, her boots kicking up dirt as she marched. Her right hand twitched persistently towards the pistol at her back, the other held to her bloodied side before mirroring the shaking of her head.

"No. Now, before it gets dark…" she insisted, turning sharply from the tree line as she continued her pacing.

She shook her head again, "Now." She pulled her rifle from over her back, holding it out, frustration etched clearly on her features. "This is useless in the dark! It has to be now! You heard them! They're not that far behind me!"

She sighed as her step faltered again, his voice floating over to her, his words a soothing lull to the tormented mind inside.

"I know, but…" she stopped in her tracks, her hands clenching in fists, her shoulders bunching, "Those arseholes won't stop coming and SHE keeps slipping through my goddamn fingers! How? HOW!" she demanded.

She shook her head vigorously, "No. Not me. I didn't let her escape. She was _in _the cabin! I heard her!"

Her shoulders slumped, "No, you've never lied to me," she resumed her pacing, trying to understand why Riley hadn't been in the cabin. She'd heard her voice, heard the sound of a shot and Riley's indignant yelling. But when she'd burst in, the cabin had been empty, the front door wide open – not a living soul in or around the place.

She didn't understand it.

She stopped suddenly, as his words broke through her reverie. She spun on her heel, "NO! No, no, no, no. _Please. _We'll do it your way," she slung the rifle over her shoulder, "We'll do it your way."

She nodded, "Yes, you're right. I understand."

She shook her head, "No, she won't get off that easy."

She smiled as his breath tickled the back of her neck, his words whispering against her ear. She closed her eyes, listening carefully, like a good soldier did. Her back straightened, her shoulders lifted and her body fell into line with her mind. Her hands were clasped behind her back as she took her orders, accepting them with a perfunctory nod.

Her quarry was in front of her, not behind her. Once she had Riley, the others would come. Then she would have all that she needed to make everything right. She would have the only thing she had ever wanted, the only thing that was her weakness.

She adjusted the rifle over her back and started down the mountain. She'd been shown the path she needed, the path that would bring about her reunion.

No one would stand in her way.

No one.

* * *

Sam pulled Dean to a stop an hour later, "Dude, a breather, come on," he begged as he crouched against a nearby tree.

"Two minutes," Dean ordered as he looked at his watch, cursing under his breath. Time was running out, he could feel it. He raised his hand to his throat, ignoring the wetness under his fingers.

Sam shook his head, "No, Dean. This…we can't see two feet in front of us, and you're taking us _down _the mountain now? We'll break our freakin' necks."

"One minute, thirty," Dean replied as he scanned the darkness around him. He cocked his head as his gaze fell across an almost overgrown path. _That way. _That was the way to Riley. "Time's up," Dean stated, making his way towards the trail. He hadn't questioned the inner voice that had led him here, he wasn't going to start now. He turned, gesturing angrily to Sam, "_Move, _Sam," he hissed.

Sam pushed himself from the ground, muttering under his breath and glaring at his brothers back as he followed him through what you could barely call a trail. They fought through vines that had created an almost impenetrable barrier along the track, branches and leaves scratching at them, pulling at them. If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought nature was on a personal crusade to stop their progress any way it could. He swore under his breath as a branch scraped painfully across his forehead. He pulled his jacket tighter around him as he moved forward, the icy hands of the winds that gusted through the forest wrapping around him. He dropped his gaze as he felt leaf-litter whipping about his feet and he frowned, stopping suddenly and grabbing at Dean's jacket, pulling him to a stop.

Dejavu.

This was the dream. His first one. It wasn't the screaming faces of the dead he saw in the leaf litter, there were no faces at all. But the cold, the fear…it was the same. The outside forces were the same. He hadn't been in control in his dream and he wasn't in control here.

He swore to himself. They'd walked right into his nightmare.

"Sammy?"

"We're walking into a trap," Sam whispered. "You gotta listen to me, Dean. I …dreamt…"

Dean raised a hand, pulling Sam into a crouch and putting a finger to his lips. "Someone's here," he whispered, making almost no sound as he crept forward.

Sam followed Dean quietly, taking up his position beside his brother as Dean silently pushed the foliage apart. Sam looked over his brother's shoulder and into a small clearing that was barely lit by moonlight. There was nothing but overgrown forest and shadows surrounding it, but the glade within was surprisingly well kept. They'd been led here. There was no doubt. He turned his head towards his brother, the words stopping on his lips, cocking his head as Dean did.

A soft, barely audible voice floated over the unnatural silence that now rained down on them. The words were indistinguishable but not the voice that carried them. Sam grabbed his brother, clamping a hand over his mouth and pushing him to the ground, holding him down.

"_No," _Sam hissed into Dean's ear. "Listen," he said quietly. "Listen, Dean..." Sam tried to make out the words, catching an occasional word but that was it. It didn't matter, he could hear the madness behind the singsong quality of it. "We're too late," he said softly.

Their heads snapped to the right when they heard a almost familiar laugh float through the woods, a laugh that was moving quickly away from them and towards the faint singing.

"Easy," Sam whispered, pushing himself soundlessly off his brother, his pistol now nestled in his hand.

Dean nodded and pointed over Sam's shoulder. A small shadow fell over his features as he watched Sam turn, his gut tightening as he brought the butt of the gun down on the back of brother's head.

"Sorry Sammy," he whispered as he moved his unconscious brother carefully into hiding. He had to do this alone. Sam believed Riley was a lost cause, that she'd succumbed to the darkness, but he had heard nothing but her missed voice carrying to him. Sammy wouldn't let him do what he needed to save Riley.

_**Mine.**_

It was Dee's laugh that had snaked through the forest, taunting Riley, hunting her. He covered Sam's prone figure with thick vines before moving down the opposite side of the tiny, almost completely hidden glade within. He had to get to Riley before Dee did.

_**Mine.**_

* * *

Bobby looked into Virginia's exhausted eyes, "It's done?"

Ginny nodded slowly, lifting a bottle of water to her lips with a shaking hand. She dropped her gaze the bowl between her and Bobby. Her daughters survival depended on the ashes that lay mixing in the ancient wooden artefact, but she knew this was the only way. She knew what she'd seen. She'd only ever seen it once before.

One word slowly spinning around Dean.

"It's done."

_**To be continued…**_


	15. Cat and Mouse

_(Disclaimer: Don't own anything 'Supernatural' ain't that a bitch?. The following story, and the characters of Riley and Dee belong to me.)_

* * *

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Fifteen.**

"_You hear that Winchester?" _

Dee's laugh wove through the trees, the dense forest making it impossible for Dean to pinpoint her exact location. But he had a target area, he smiled, that's all he needed for now.

"_Who's the crazy one now, huh?"_

He kept quiet; he wouldn't play this game with her, he wouldn't give away his position. Moving quickly through the undergrowth, he found paths that gave him plenty of cover and whose leaf-litter wouldn't betray him as he looked for any movement within the trees.

"_I know you can hear her, Winchester!" _Dee's taunting laugh slithered across the clearing; _"Now tell me she isn't all buckets'o'crazy!"_

Dean kept moving, a smile touching his lips - Riley had been nothing but buckets'o'crazy since he'd met her. She said it was part of her charm; others called it infuriating. To him, it was Riley. He smiled again, half the fun was deciding whether to kick her ass or kiss her.

And he was starting to get that 'kick-her-ass' feeling in the pit of his stomach. He crouched and listened carefully. Dee was still on the opposite side of the clearing, high or low, he wasn't sure. But from the sound of Riley's voice, she was heading straight towards her.

It didn't make any sense.

Riley knew Dee was hunting her, and she could hear Dee just as well as he could. They were both acting out of character; their injuries clouding their judgement. He knew Riley was hurt…both she and Dee were. He'd been following Dee's blood trail until darkness had taken that away from him, and that's when he'd started instinctively following Riley. And Riley should be moving away from Dee, not towards her. She was unarmed and handcuffed…he cocked his head…

His mind processed everything in seconds - Riley had been arrested, the cops killed before she'd been searched. She wasn't unarmed; she still had the dagger she always kept in her boot. She couldn't use it if her hands were behind her, so if she was still cuffed, her hands were in front of her.

He smiled again. Riley wasn't crazy; she was setting a trap.

He moved off…

* * *

Dee stalked steadily, the scrub that covered the path parting before her as she moved towards her target. She had to get above and behind Riley, she needed the element of surprise, and she would use the Winchesters to get it.

They would be Riley's distraction. She knew they were here, and while the surrounding forest made it difficult to pinpoint their exact location, there was no doubt they were out there. She could feel it.

And she could hear Riley. Singing.

A smile was gone from her lips before fully registering. Riley had snapped – like he said she would. He'd told her to wait for it, that it would help her, and he was right. This time the smile perched a little longer; the insane lullaby was coming in quiet snatches as Riley unwittingly gave away her position. It was just what she needed to get the upper hand.

This was Riley's domain. Dee was the sniper, Riley the scout. Close quarters combat was Riley's specialty. Dee was an expert in the area, but Riley had a natural, sometimes _un_natural flair for it. And it was the only time she was quiet. Completely and utterly silent. The bitch had a gift. The smile decided to stay this time; the bitch wasn't quiet now.

The song was the perfect beacon. For her _and _those damn Winchesters. But it would only affect one the way she wanted, and she needed him out of commission. He was her biggest threat. She'd seen the …attachment he'd formed for Riley, he would fight hard for her. But it would be this she would use to fetter him.

She would use Sam to break him.

She let out another taunt, scanning the woodland for any sign of Dean and Sam; ignoring the instinct that screamed for silence. She'd wanted to remain undetected, affect the kills quietly and efficiently - _her _way. But the whispers in her ear told of another plan.

She knew the Winchesters would be together, Dean wouldn't let Sam out of his sight. She'd ensured it with a bullet. And they'd be heading for Riley. They were stacking the odds - three against one. Her eyes shone brightly, but she wasn't 'one', and that would be their downfall.

They were creeping slowly into her web, taking the bait offered them. And once she had them…she stopped, a frown creasing her brow. Then what? Her frown deepened as she wondered what she'd do once she did have them. She was sure there was a plan. She just ...couldn't remember. She concentrated, honing her focus...

She turned quickly, her finger held steady on the trigger, the gun not wavering from the blood-soaked woman sitting against the tree, a dagger protruding from her chest. Dee was in a vacuum. All the air had been sucked from her surroundings. There was no sound bar the pounding of her heart, the rushing of blood through her ears as she watched the woman's mouth open and close soundlessly. She couldn't stop the tremble of her pistol muzzle, nor the sickening twist in the pit of her stomach as the woman looked at her, _into_ her. There was an…eerie familiarity about this whole thing…she just had to concentrate…

But she was drawn back to her reality by the sound of Riley's voice. Riley. She had to concentrate. She was hunting Riley. The seductive whisper in her ear told her so.

She moved off...

* * *

Bobby's eyes took in the bloodied scene around the cabin, adrenalin surging through his body as he swore again and jogged down the track. He couldn't get either boy on the phone but there was little doubt what they were doing. He just needed to know which way they'd gone.

He spotted the gunshot trees on his way down, moving quickly into the scrub and swearing up another storm as his eyes travelled over the footprints leading up the slope and into the darkness.

"Idjits. Goddamn idjits," he muttered to himself.

He kicked out at a nearby tree. This was all Dean, chasing after some woman whom he believed he had feelings for, not realising it was all magic, the idjit. And he was dragging Sam along for the ride. He kept up his litany of curses as he double-checked the weapons in his bag before slinging it over his shoulder, the same shoulders that sagged a little as he turned to footsteps.

"I've hidden both cars," said Ginny as she took in her surroundings. "Their engine was still warm…just," she paused, her gaze stopping on the bullet-damaged trees. "We're not that far behind them."

"I told you…" started Bobby.

"I don't care what you told me," Ginny said calmly, returning her gaze to Bobby's. "Those may be your boys up there, but they're my girls. I'm as responsible for Dee as I am for Cin." She stared Bobby in the eye; "You're not keeping me from my daughter, Bobby. No one is. _I _need to be there, you know I do. So lets get moving. We're losing the light."

Bobby balled his hands into fists, his teeth clenching painfully as he stared into Virginia's defiant eyes. He turned, muttering under his breath as he looked over the mountain; she was right out about one thing, she did need to be there. Because if this didn't work, he was going back to plan A, and he needed her, Riley and Dee together.

He would make sure it was ended once and for all.

They moved off…

* * *

"_Salt along windows, holy water for demons..." _

Riley softly sang as she moved deliberately through the scrub.

"_Bright shiny daggers and guns are my weapons…" _

Her song continued flawlessly as Dee's laugh floated towards her and she altered her course accordingly.

"_Vampires and djinns, my sword I will swing…" _

She brushed against a slender tree, the movement intentionally subtle.

"_These are a few of my favourite things."_

Her throat pulsed painfully as Dee yelled through the forest, confirming what she already knew.

Dean was here.

She hesitated just briefly, a smile touching her lips; Dean was here. Her words didn't falter as she nodded to herself – he would figure it out. She turned back, scanning the shadows around her before moving off, countering Dee as Dee countered her. It was a deadly game of cat and mouse as they stalked the other. Riley had to be careful; Dee knew how she worked, and anything too out of the ordinary would be a red flag. The song was enough, just loud enough for Dee to follow, and soft enough for Dee to think she unaware of what she was doing.

That Dee was doing the same meant Riley had to take a gamble. They were both giving away their position, only difference was, Dee was struggling with it. Riley could hear it in the clipped accent on certain words; something only she'd be able to pick up on. Dee was being instructed. Ordered. And Dee always had trouble taking orders, especially one's she didn't agree with. It wouldn't be long until Dee rebelled; and once she went silent, the game would change again. Riley wasn't going to let that happen.

She kept up her chant as she moved purposefully upwards; she would push Dee up the mountain before bringing her back down, leading Dee between her and Dean and Sam. She wanted Dee in two minds, that's all she needed - hesitation.

She would incapacitate Dee and then figure out a way to save her, 'cause she sure as shit wasn't letting anyone kill her. She was the only one permitted to do that. Both she and Dee had sworn to it.

She moved off...

* * *

Her eyes shone brightly as she watched them move slowly but steadily towards the clearing. The powerful pull from the glade was undeniable; and it worked its magic as she worked hers. Manoeuvring her puppets perfectly as she drew them to her, each hunting the other as she subtly directed them towards the ancient ground.

Soon she would be reborn. The sacrifice was almost upon her, and with it, three powerful disciples. Four would have been better. She glanced at the scarred and beaten man humbled at her side; his death would not bring her to life. Hers would. She returned her gaze to the thick scrub; a smile dripping from her lips as she listened to the taunts from her chosen one. So easy to manipulate a mind that had always been teetering on the edge, walking that fine, fine line between madness and sanity; so easy to whisper into that fragile mind and coax it to where she wanted. And the others; give them what they wanted and they'd enslave themselves to it.

Her smile grew wider, too wide for her face; she could feel the madness poisoning the air, hear it snarl through the minds she had so carefully tended, minds that slowly cracked under her command. Their allegiances were crumbling, their trust dwindling, and the strength they drew from each other sat forgotten as they stumbled around in secretive disarray.

The slight tilt to her head was all that gave away that something wasn't right. "One is missing," she hissed, a dismissive flick of her wrist sending her disciple scurrying into the bush.

One was missing. She didn't like that. Her eyes scanned the surroundings before she closed them, sending out a call…shepherding her flock home.

* * *

Dean pushed the foliage aside, his pistol held firmly, his finger steady on the trigger as his eyes took in everything around him.

He was close.

It hadn't taken him long to figure out what Riley was doing, she knew he was here and she was leading Dee in between them. Or she was hoping she was; he'd never betrayed his position as he'd followed Riley. They didn't know where he was, but he knew where they were. Riley hadn't stopped singing and Dee hadn't stopped taunting him.

He didn't like it.

He winced as his throat pulsed, the wounds to his neck flaring painfully. He dropped his gaze, his eyes catching a flash of movement thirty feet down on his left. Riley. He kept completely still, turning only his head as he caught the subtlest of movements twenty feet above him. Dee.

The singing had now stopped, and he knew he wasn't getting another taunt. He smiled to himself; they were in the kill zone. He looked back up the mountain, not moving; any sound now would betray his position. There were no night creatures to mask his progress through the forest, literally one wrong step and it was over. His eyes flicked forward, to the soft shifting of leaf litter, the drifting of clouds past the moon revealing the sudden halt of a shadow. Dee.

He dropped his eyes, scanning the area below him. Nothing.

His eyes flicked constantly back and forth. He was keeping a steady tab on Dee, but Riley had slipped off the radar. He knew he'd caught a glimpse of her, the painful yet comforting reminder on his throat left him no doubt. But now, now he knew only one thing.

Dee was that way.

He was about to rise but stopped, removing his boots and slipping his knife into the back of his jeans. Riley had always said barefoot was the only way to stalk; it kept you in touch with nature and you needed Her on your side. He'd always laughed at her, 'taken the piss' as she liked to say, but he'd just witnessed the truth of it - he'd lost Riley in the scrub; he hadn't lost Dee.

He stayed low, a small smile gracing his lips as he made his silent way up the mountain, the forest debris not giving away his position as he circled up behind Dee. He would bring Deer down the fucking mountain and out into the open.

And he would look her in the eyes when he killed her.

* * *

Dee couldn't understand the panic. She'd never heard it in his voice before. Something was wrong. Very wrong. And it was distracting her. She ignored it; she had one job now. Riley. Find Riley. Everything else was immaterial. She stopped her yelling, her taunting, and shifted into the seasoned mode of the hunt - she was doing it _her _way now.

She moved carefully forward, the leaves no longer parting before her as she disobeyed orders. She altered her course as she heard the soft shuffle of leaves below her. Scraping past a tree, she didn't notice she'd left skin behind as she tracked single-mindedly downwards.

Pulling up behind a tree, she took short, shallow breaths, ignoring his screams as they cut into her. Riley was close, she could feel it. Nothing was going to stop her. She chanced a glance around the tree, pulling back when she caught movement in the underbrush ten feet away. Riley was so close to the clearing, if she could push the bitch back, she could get a clear shot. She smiled, Riley's scream would bring Dean running, little _Sammy _scampering behind.

She inched to the other side of the tree, dropping to a crouch behind dense bracken and slipping her rifle from her shoulder. The moon was hiding behind ghostly clouds as Dee put the rifle to her shoulder, one shot to get Riley moving, and another to take her down. The rifle speared quietly through the bracken, Dee cracking her neck as she lowered her eye to the scope; she just had to wait for the moon to emerge and she would have her shot.

Her finger tightened on the trigger and she froze as her world went silent. He was no longer yelling, no longer ranting at her, their was nothing but silence enveloping her.

She closed her eyes, releasing the trigger as she felt the cold steel of a blade pressed expertly against her neck. The hot breath of his whisper burning into her…

"_What are the voices telling you now, bitch?" _

* * *

_Thump. Thump. Thump. _That's how it started, a dull throbbing centred at the back of his head that meant he was awake. Alive. A low moan escaped him as his mind fought through the fog, grasping sluggishly at wakefulness. Dean. Dean had knocked him out and gone after Riley on his own. He had to get moving. He had to open his eyes and get to Dean. He had to cover his brother's back. This wasn't over. It was just beginning.

His eyes snapped open as a hand slipped over his mouth…

**_To be continued…_**


	16. Partners in Crime

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything 'Supernatural' (hurts every time I write that). __**However, **__this story, and the characters of Riley and Dee belong to me (no matter how much they bitch about it)._

_* This chapter is rated for language…as per usual._

**

* * *

**

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Sixteen.**

_Thump. Thump. Thump. _That's how it started. A dull throbbing centred at the back of his head that told him he was awake. Alive. A low moan escaped him as his mind fought through the thick fog, grasping sluggishly at wakefulness. Dean. Dean had knocked him out and gone after Riley on his own. He had to get moving. He had to open his eyes and get moving. He had to get to Dean. He had to cover his brother's back. This wasn't nearing an end. It was only just beginning.

His eyes snapped open as a hand slipped over his mouth…

"_Shhh…"_

Sam began to push against the hand, but he was shifted firmly back, his eyes widening in shock as his ear was flicked.

"I said, _shhhhh!" _she hissed into his ear. She pointed to her right, gave him a 'stay' gesture with an accompanying hard stare before disappearing silently into the shadows.

He was about to follow her when he heard the sound of a twig snapping from the direction Riley had pointed. He frowned, staying completely still, slowing his breathing as he heard the unnatural shifting of leaf-litter moving towards him. Moving his hand painfully slowly to the small of his back, he froze as leaves crackled ever closer. He peered through the dense foliage, incredulously grateful that Dean had hidden him this well…ignoring the fact that Riley had found him. He was about to remove his pistol when he saw movement in the shadows not fifteen feet from him.

_"Come out, come out, wherever you are…"_

The childlike giggle that danced over Sam made his blood run cold. He could see nothing but the man's silhouette, but there was no mistaking what he was doing. Sniffing the air.

"_Fee, fie, foe, fum! I smell the blood of a …Winchester…"_

Sam's jaw set as the giggle sounded again. This asshole knew their name. He didn't dare breathe as the shadow turned slowly in his direction, taking a tentative step forward – sniffing the air, always sniffing the air.

He couldn't risk taking his eyes from the form that shuffled forward in time with the personalised nursery rhyme, but he wondered where the hell Riley was and what the hell she was doing. Not that it mattered, he'd take care of this psycho _then_ find Riley and kick her ass.

His adrenalin was pumping; the man was ten feet from him - the bastard was close enough to hear any sound, any movement he made, so he had once chance at the element of surprise. He tightened his grip on his pistol; when the lunatic was within range…

_"Fee, fie, foe, fum! I smell the blood of…" _

Sam pulled the pistol from the back of his jeans in one swift movement, releasing the trigger suddenly. He frowned as the man's knees buckled, the rhyme cut short as he was lowered slowly to the forest floor.

Riley was couched over the body, and she looked up, running an eye over as Sam emerged quietly from the bracken. "You look like shit," she whispered matter-of-factly.

"I got shot," he retorted, infuriated by her calm. "What's your excuse?"

She cocked her head, "Rolled Dad's truck, got beat up by cops, got _splattered _by said cops, another one almost shot my in the arse, but I think he was aiming for my head." She held up her hands, "And I'm still handcuffed." She grinned, "I win!"

Sam just stared at her.

"Oookay," Riley whispered, "No levity." She held up her wrists again, "Little help?"

Sam looked pointedly at the dagger in her hand, moving over to her only when she'd pushed it deep into the dirt and out of close reach. He worked the lock with his knife as he watched her; her face was partly concealed in shadow but he knew she was smiling at him, watching him as he watched her. His eyes flicked to the body at his feet before returning to hers, "You didn't have to kill him," he whispered harshly.

She leaned forward, bringing her face into the moonlight, "Can you keep a secret Sam?"

Sam kept his face unreadable, "Sure."

"He's not dead," she whispered.

Sam locked his hand over Riley's wrist, not breaking her gaze as he put fingers to the man's throat. A steady pulse beat underneath them.

"Figured a prisoner worked better for us than a body." She shrugged, "Might come in handy." She motioned to the cuffs again. "Man, you suck at this."

"I could just leave you in them," Sam muttered as he twisted his knife into the lock, ignoring Riley's exaggerated sigh as he finally released her.

Rubbing at her wrists, Riley took her dagger and put it at the small of her back, "Okay, so you right with him?" she asked, looking around.

"_Right_ with him?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Gotta go pick something up," Riley nodded distractedly. She turned back to Sam, "Pressure points here," she motioned, putting her fingers to the man's throat, "Vagus nerves, works a charm. Keep him quiet, I'll be back in ten."

"No goddamn way!" Sam hissed, grabbing Riley's arm. "Dean's gone after you!" he all but yelled into her face. "We go find _Dean _now…"

Riley smiled, "Dean's got thing's covered Sam, trust me."

"Trust you? Are you kidding me? After everyth…."

"Sam," Riley interrupted, "You gotta let that go for now."

"Do I?"

"Yes, Sam," she looked him in the eye, "Now's. Not. The. Time."

Sam stared dully at her, "Don't. Make. Me. Slap. You."

Riley stopped a smile, sighing at the look on Sam's face. "Look, something big's coming." She ran a hand through her hair as her eyes continually scoured their surroundings. "Shit Sam, its already here, and I know you can feel it. All the bitching about what we _should_ have done can wait 'til later, we're running on borrowed time here, you know we are. So _please_, just wait here - I'll be back in ten. Less if I can."

"Where are you going?" he whispered harshly, refusing to let her go.

"To get as many upper hands as we can, Sam." She gave him a small smile as she disentangled her arm from his grip. "I keep hearing my dad, clear as day, whispering in my ear like he was at my shoulder." She shifted her position silently, looking towards the far side of the clearing before turning back to him. "Thing is Sam, Dad never called me Cinnamon," she whispered as she disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

Bobby followed Ginny silently through the forest, his hand never far from his pistol as he studied the woman in front of him. The last time he'd seen her had been thirty years ago - nineteen years old, and drowning in youthful naiveté and rebellion. He'd saved her life, and Riley's, but he'd also let another die and orphaned one he thought was an innocent. Now the four remaining people from that room thirty years ago were coming back together…on ancient ground. He was no idiot - nothing good could come of this.

And this was why he'd begged Jack to tell Riley about her mother. He told Jack that Riley had a right to know about it if she was to protect herself properly - no one dodged magic like that without it marking them somehow. But Bobby had been gambling that Riley had more of her father in her than her mother, that she would chase the truth and finally put an end to this. But Jack never had told Riley, and like all secrets this powerful, it had fought to be free, slowly festering under layers of lies until it ruptured.

And this was the result.

The mother of all she-bitches was coming, and if she was allowed to take just _one _step, one blood-filled step into this world, there'd be no stopping her. He may have fucked-up thirty years ago, but that didn't mean he hadn't done his homework. He knew ancient ground gave Sybil access, increased her strength, but she was still just a visitor. To have an 'access-all-areas' pass, she needed to soak her feet in the blood of her sacrifice, her first steps into this world would be taken in death and they would define her path through this realm.

He could see no other way out of it than by killing Dee…and Riley and Virginia as well if he had to. But Virginia had been adamant about _her _plan. Hell, she'd been goddamn convincing, and he didn't doubt the woman had studied up as well. And she was an insider; she'd used this magic before... and he'd use her to save Dean and Sam. He would follow her plan for now; time would tell if he'd follow it completely. Trust wasn't any where near on the table, but Virginia had been right about the one thing – he could _feel _the …wrongness of this place, the unnatural stillness that sat heavily in the air. They were getting close. He pulled his pistol free.

Ginny glanced over her shoulder, her eyes dropping quickly to the pistol in Bobby's hand before returning to his glare. "I know you don't trust me, Bobby," she said quietly, "Don't expect you to. But you try and kill Cinnamon…"

"Alright," Bobby interrupted, "I can't stand it anymore," he stopped Virginia in her tracks. "What on earth possessed you to call her _Cinnamon?_ Were you high?"

"Probably," Ginny stated, "But…that's what Jack smelled like when…"

"I had to ask," muttered Bobby as he urged her forward; he needed more answers to his million-and-one questions, and they had little time. "Why didn't you tell Riley who Dee was? You must have _known _something was up when she brought Dee home for you to meet."

"I knew who Dee was before Cin introduced us," Ginny said quietly. "You don't forget eyes like that." She looked over her shoulder at him, "Do you? You knew who she was as well, and you knew who Cin was…"

"And I tried to get my boys away from them, but your daughter voodooed Dean like you voodooed Jack, and look what shitty mess we're in again," he spat. "You _know _what that bitch is planning and she has a back-up just in case she fails the first time!"

"She has more than one 'back-up', as you so nicely put it." Ginny stopped and turned to face Bobby, "None of this is a surprise for her, Bobby. You know who she is right?" A small frown creased her brow and she shook her head slowly. "You've been looking at this all wrong. She could have got to Dee any time, Bobby. That poor girl has been marked and walking a knife's edge her whole life. But Sybil _waited_. Waited because she _knew _Cin and Dee would meet up with Dean and Sam." She stared at him, "And aren't they a lovely little link to you? The one who stopped her coming through last time?" She nodded to the look on his face, "But Bobby, to bring something this big into play takes more than a couple of teenagers mucking around with stuff they shouldn't." She sighed, "I know, I know; this day was always coming, don't get me wrong, but what was the catalyst, Bobby? Think about it. It's perfect - you and me, Cin and Dee …the four of us together again? What are the chances?" She looked into Bobby's eyes, "If we figure out what the trigger was, we may just have us that ace up our sleeve we're looking for." She gave him a small smile, "A different one to killing me, Cinnamon and Dee, I mean."

Bobby's face was unreadable; the grudging trust she had to give him didn't sit well with her; she knew his loyalties, understandably, lay with Dean and Sam but this was her _daughter. _The only thing she was sure of, was that she was the only one here who wasn't an innocent in this.

"I'm sorry Dean and Sam were dragged into this," Ginny said earnestly. "You don't know how sorry I am. This has nothing to do with them, and now…I'm sorry."

Bobby cocked his head, thinking on everything Virginia had said. She was right. It was perfect. _Too _perfect. Virginia had said she'd known something was wrong when Riley had gone home almost three months ago, after Jack had died; and when, according to Sam, Dean and Riley had killed Lilith.

He looked at Virginia, "It has more to do with Dean and Sam than you think."

* * *

Dean kept one hand locked over Dee's cuffed ones. He wasn't surprised when he'd found a cable tie on her; he smiled to himself, bet she hadn't counted on wearing it herself. He pushed her to her knees at the edge of the clearing, putting the muzzle of his pistol to the base of her skull.

"Well what do we do now, Yankee?"

"Now we wait."

Dee chuckled softly, "For what? Passing traffic?"

Dean moved to Dee's side, putting his back against a large tree and keeping his pistol trained on her. He smiled, "Figure it won't be long 'til your boss shows up. I kill her. Kill you. Be home in time for dinner."

Dee cocked her head, "Home? Which home would that be? The latest in a line of crappy motels? That black beast you ride around in? Or maybe Bobby's shithole? Tell me, Winchester," she smiled sweetly, "What home have you _ever _had?"

Dean mirrored her smile, "Don't want to talk about your boss then?"

"I _have _no boss, numbnut."

"Really. So it was _your _decision to kill those cops at the cabin." He shook his head with a laugh, "Man, aren't you riding the slippery slope straight into the big bonfire."

Dee rolled her eyes, "Yeah, Winchester. _I _killed those cops." It was her turn to laugh, "Who's deluded now?"

"Yeah Dee, Riley killed the cops with .338 shot from her .357 Colt Desert Eagle," he said calmly, "And she managed to shoot one of them in the _back _of the head while she was standing handcuffed in front of him." He grinned. "_I _believe you."

"Riley killed those cops," Dee stated unequivocally.

"Uh huh."

"I'm telling you, Winchester. Riley's snapped," Dee insisted. "You heard her. I know you did. _She _killed those cops. Not me." She paused. raising and eyebrow, "And just where _is _your fuck buddy?"

Dean's jaw set. _**Mine. **_"Riley's where she's supposed to be." He smiled at her, "And do you really think she's snapped Dee? I mean she led you straight to me. Think about it," he said softly, intimately. "Up and down the mountain, back and forth through the scrub, following that 'crazy' whisper…" He smiled at her again, "What did you think was happening?"

Dean watched as the realisation slowly started to sink in, that final confirmation that Riley had out-manoeuvred her, out-played her. That Dee was the one who had played into their hands, not the other way round.

"That's right," Dean smiled, "Said the spider to the fly."

Dee glared at Dean, hatred burning in her eyes. "I should have put a bullet right between your brother's eyes."

The punch rocked her head sideways.

"And that was the first of your many mistakes, Dee," Dean stated with the same controlled calm, "Going after my brother and going after m…after Riley." He leaned back against the tree, his eyes locked to hers, "You've been sloppy, Dee." He smiled, "Bet you wish you killed me back at Bobby's. But all you did was piss me off." He motioned to her bullet wounds, "Bet that was a hell of a surprise too, huh? The _great sniper_ taking one…" he looked at her blood-soaked side, another smile rising to his lips, "Make that _two _hits from an 'amateur' like me." He grinned. "Ouch."

A slow smile spread across Dee's lips, "Is that what poor widdle Sammy said when I spared his life?" She pushed her face towards Dean, "You _owe _me."

"I don't owe you shit, bitch." He smiled at her again, "You're nothing more than a means to an end. When your boss shows," he ignored her rolled eyes, "and she's close, I know you can feel her just as well as I can…" he paused, "then all this shit your mom started thirty years ago will finally be over."

Dee laughed, "My Mum? Ohhh, Winchester," she laughed merrily, "You're off your rocker, champ."

Dean watched Dee carefully, his mind working overtime, making rapid-fire assessments as it collated every conversation, every piece of information, anything and everything about Dee and her mom. It was time to break the bitch down.

"You know, we've never really had the chance to get to know each other, Dee." He grinned, "Sit and chat a while."

"You want to talk about mothers, Winchester?" She smiled sweetly, "How's yours? Oh, that's right - fire, fire burning bright. Guess I'm one up on you there, then."

Dean stopped himself from lashing out and smiled instead, "Guess Grandma and Gramps didn't tell you, Dee. Dear ol' _Mum, _ain't livin' it up in Tijuana," he smiled again, "Kinda hard to do that when you're six feet under."

"You don't…"

"Know what I'm talking about?" Dean finished for her. "Yeah, I do. See, had me a little chat with an old timer from Carthage, little town a ways down the mountain, I'm sure its changed since the last time you were there. But it seems your mom bit the big one there about thirty years ago…yep, she did," he said to the shaking of Dee's head. "Dagger to the chest…"

He stopped as she saw the colour drain from her face; that's what he'd been waiting for – a trigger. _Now _he had to tread carefully, Dee had blocked the memory of what had happened to her mom, but those walls were slowly breaking down and what little sanity she'd had left, was long gone. But he needed to use her to get Sam and Riley out of this alive, and to stop the uber-bitch he _knew _was waiting in the wings like he was.

All the players weren't here yet; but he had Sybil's sacrifice, and he was about to turn the slave against her master.

"You remember?" Dean asked her softly. "You remember seeing your mom, Dee?"

There was no doubt she'd seen her mother's body, whether or not Dee had seen Bobby kill her mother was another thing. He thought back on what Frank Masterton had told him and Sam about Isobel Richardson's death. "Do you remember seeing her sitting in her own blood, Dee? Do you see it pooling in her lap? You were just a kid - three…maybe four. So much blood, Dee," he whispered, "So much blood…and your mom…" He dropped his voice even lower, "You remember, Dee. I know you do."

She turned her face slowly to his, and he looked into the cold, dead stare of insanity. _"Seeyouinhell, seeyouinhell, seeyouinhell."_

Dean's stomach churned as he listened to the lilting mantra that whispered childlike from Dee's lips, the aggravation increasing with the tempo. Dean cocked his head; Dee was repeating something she heard, something from that day thirty years ago.

'See you in hell.'

They could only be one thing – Isobel Richardson's last words to her killer. Dee had seen Bobby kill her mother.

Dean leaned over and began to whisper in her ear.

* * *

It started as a low rumble, the primal energy growling from deep beneath the earth as it was called upon. The ground trembled, the trees seeming to shake with terror as energy, pure and unbridled fought its way to the surface.

Her skin tingled as she felt the first stirrings of life within her again, but _this _place…she hadn't chosen it thirty years ago for nothing. A smile dripped from her lips; and soon she would have her sweet revenge on all those who had stopped her rebirth so long ago. She would enslave one of Lilith's murderer's; she knew it was a gamble only keeping one of them alive, they were the one's that had opened the doorway and brought about her dawn – but she would trade one of her 'lives' for the power the sacrifice would bring.

Her patience had paid off; and she'd been gifted powerful disciples. Her Chosen One would now lead her army, the one called 'Sam', her second in command. The one called Dean she would keep close, she couldn't allow his death, it would leave her vulnerable – her power, her access to this realm dependent on his survival. She smiled; she was sure she could find something to keep him occupied.

She raised a hand, the trees in front of her parting, the impenetrable darkness of the forest pulling back as she stepped from the shadows and into the moonlight. The grass was soft beneath her feet as she made her way to the centre of the glade raising her arms and calling her soldiers home...

* * *

Her gaze went between the woman in the centre of the glade and the man at her side; her skin prickling as she felt the seductive power of this place.

She rose as he did, a nod of understanding passing between them as they moved silently out of their cover and onto the battlefield…

**_To be continued…_**


	17. Conversations in Time

_A/N: Yes, this is the beginning of the finale (a prequel of sorts, if you will), and this one will be a little different. With so many questions remaining unanswered, and a pretty big battle brewing (and to be honest, the amount of rewrites were becoming disturbing), this chapter will (hopefully) put some of those questions to bed before we head into the __**really **__good stuff. _

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything 'Supernatural' (sad, but true). __**However, **__this story, and the characters of Riley and Dee belong to me (yeah, you're __**owned, **__you hear me?!)._

_Oh, and usual language warning…blah, blah, blah…_

_

* * *

_

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Seventeen.**

'**Conversations in Time.'**

Borrowed time.

She'd been living on it the last thirty years, and it was a legacy she'd passed on to her daughter. A daughter, a child, promised in naïve thought before her beginning, but fought for ferociously from first realisation.

She'd told Isobel she'd made a mistake - not with Cinnamon, her daughter was the only shining light in her world, and she was the one link to the only man she'd ever truly loved - but a mistake with the promise made to Isobel to save Dee.

But now, here she was, holding true to that promise. The promise Jack had told her she had to honour.

She remembered that day like it was yesterday – the day Cin had arrived home unannounced, Dee at her shoulder. She'd known instantly who she was. They were the eyes that haunted her dreams. Eyes that now had her daughter's back. She'd rung Jack, frantic, telling him any lie, any excuse she could think of to get Dee away from Cin, begging him to do something, _anything. _It had taken him a long time to calm her, but he'd done it patiently, explaining that he knew about Dee, they'd met - Ginny had to trust him on this. He'd paused, and her stomach had tightened painfully at the silence that had crept along the line towards her; and he'd uttered the words that had shattered her carefully created world…

'_You know what I am, Ginny. What I do. What Riley and I both do. You've always known. Like I've always known about you and Isobel. Riley was the only secret you managed to keep from me, and even then, not for long… but for too long, Ginny. So you trust me on this. Not a word. You want to keep Riley alive, then not a word. Not a word about how we met. Not a word about Isobel Richardson. Nothing. Promise me, Ginny.'_

She'd promised hastily, and Jack had calmed her again.

"_No, Ginny. This isn't some half-assed promise made in ignorance. You __**understand **__the promise you're making this time. You go back to our daughter and you __**look **__at her, Ginny. Isobel isn't here to right her wrong, __**you **__are. And you will __**keep **__the promise you made to her. You go back and you look them __**both**__ in the eye and you __**keep **__your promise." _

He'd paused, an altogether different silence screaming at her. '_I love you, Ginny. But you put our daughter at risk again, I'll kill you myself. Understand?'_

She'd done as he'd asked. She'd watched her daughter _and _Dee, and she'd seen it. Seen what Jack already had. There _was _no getting them away from each other – their link had been established before Cinnamon had been born… in that room in Carthage, North Dakota. There was no doubt that having Cin and Dee hunt together was dangerous, but she trusted Jack like no other…and Ginny had never forgotten the little girl shackled to the corner by terror. A fear so intense it had broken the child. A horror she'd bestowed on her. Jack was right. She owed not only her daughter, but Dee as well.

Virginia Ackerman and Isobel Richardson had destroyed an innocent. Izzy had paid her dues. It was time she did the same.

She looked over to Bobby; he had his dues to pay as well….

* * *

The journey of a thousand miles…

That's what kept spinning though Bobby's mind as he walked hand-in-hand with Virginia Ackerman towards his fate. He knew what it was. Each step had been perfectly choreographed from its very beginning… from _Her _very beginning. That he had functioned through this under the illusion that he was thinking clearly, that all his decisions were _his _brought a churning swell of hate and self-recrimination that rose like bile to his throat.

Self-loathing was something with which he was unfamiliar…or rather, something he hadn't allowed himself for a long time. It was too dangerous. An embittered hunter was a danger to not only himself, but to those around him. He'd learned that the hard way.

It was an ironic smile that rose to hardened lips as the last conversation he had with Jack Riley pushed him of his 'thousand-mile journey', and into a past that he thought he understood, but now realised he was nothing more than a pawn…

Jack never really came out and said _exactly _what he was thinking. That wasn't his way. And while others thought this a sign of deception, Bobby saw it for what it really was. Vigilance. Jack Riley was _the _most vigilant person he'd ever met. He was also a damn sight smarter than almost everyone Bobby knew. And, if truth be told, a lot smarter than he. That Jack kept that part closely guarded only raised Bobby's opinion of the man…and his trust of him.

Bobby Singer didn't trust anyone. But he trusted Jack Riley. And it was this trust that had led to the subject of their conversation as they'd watched the sun rise over Bobby's yard, empty whiskey and beer bottles littered at their feet as they enjoyed the quiet, the peace hunters rarely experienced but secretly craved…

"_You ever wonder who you'd be without all…this?" _Jack had asked softly.

Bobby had shrugged then caught himself before answering. He'd watched the dawn slowly stake its claim on his land before he finally answered.

"_Kinder."_

Jack had smiled, _"Yeah. But __**who, **__Bobby?"_

He'd been thinking on his answer when Jack answered for him.

"_All I ever wanted was peace, Bobby. A day without worry. A day without fear."_

Bobby had laughed softly, _"Don't we all."_

Jack had smiled at the dawn, _"I had it," _he'd said softly. _"That one perfect moment of complete and utter peace…within and…" _he'd shaken his head slowly. _"Nirvana, Bobby. It's real. The existentialists got it wrong…or did they?" _

The laugh that had come from his friend had raised the hairs on the back of Bobby's neck.

"_Thing is, once you achieve it… you spend the rest of your life trying to get it back. So does that make the existentialists right?"_

Bobby had shaken his head, _"Please tell me we're not going to have a discussion about existentialism when we're drunk off our asses."_

Jack had grinned at him, and Bobby couldn't help but laugh. Jack had leaned back in his chair, resting his feet on the porch railing. _"Think about it, Bobby. If the existentialists have got it right, then we __**are **__the masters of our own destiny. If they have it wrong, then we're nothing but pawns in God's fucked-up world."_

Bobby had nodded slowly, draining the last of his beer. _"Is one better than the other?"_

Jack had laughed long and loud at that. But when he'd finally looked at Bobby, Bobby had seen something in Jack's eyes he'd never seen before. Fear. _"One has to be. It __**has **__to."_

Bobby hadn't wanted to ask the question, he was sure he didn't want the answer. _"Which one are you gunning for?" _He'd waited silently before Jack finally answered.

"_I'm fucked either way, but… if we truly __**are **__the masters of our own destiny then we have the ability to change what lies ahead of us. I mean __**really **__change it, Bobby. If not, then does that make everything we do, everything we __**believe w**__e're doing of our own accord, just a sham?" _He'd shaken his head, _"No, I have to believe…"_ he smiled ironically, _"Yeah, 'believe', I can change it."_

Bobby had frowned, _"Change what, Jack?"_

Jack had nodded slowly, more to himself than to his friend. _"We __**can **__change it. Bobby. Nothing is set in stone." _He'd turned to Bobby, "_Just remember that. Promise me you'll remember that."_

Bobby had seen the fear again in Jack's eyes, but he'd taken time with his answer, finally nodding to him. _"I'll remember." _He'd smiled at his friend, _"I'm as confused as shit, but I'll remember."_

And remember he did. _Nothing _was set in stone. He tightened his grip on Virginia's hand as he took a new step in his journey - one that didn't have a pre-determined fate resting at its end. _He _would be the one who decided how this would end for him – no one else. His only worry now was whether Dean would allow it.

He sighed…Dean….

* * *

He was nobody's hero.

That wasn't what he was about. If you'd asked him, he'd say he was just a guy doing a job. Granted, it was a _shitty _job, and one that would probably get him killed, but…he was just a guy doing a job. What he wouldn't tell you was that it was the only thing that kept him alive...kept _her_ alive.

It was a secret he barely acknowledged. Only in his darkest hours would he unlock the chain around it. When he believed all was lost, it was the soft echo of her voice he held to. The cherished voice that had lulled him to sleep with stories of magical worlds where good _always_ triumphed over evil… and the hero always bore his name.

But his fairytale had been shattered when evil had finally triumphed over good. His four-year old world imploding as he did. He'd clung to the one thing that had been shoved roughly into his trembling arms, his father's orders reverberating through him as he'd dropped terrified eyes to his baby brother. But it was his mother's voice he'd heard as he'd charged down the stairs, Sammy held tight to his chest as his crumbling mind accepted its mission - the hero always bore his name, his mother had told him so.

It was a code instilled so deeply within Dean, a code driven by a rage so powerfully righteous he could no longer see it. His moral compass held true to only two things – Sammy, and his crusade to rid the world of evil. _All _of it.

And it was _this _evil, standing arrogantly before him, whom had defiled the one precious memory that had remained untainted his whole life. His enemy had stalked him with kindred step, and taunted him with secret longings - strategically haunting his mind with violations past and offers of traitorous redemption if he just listened. _This _evil had declared war on him in his mother's voice.

There would be _no _redemption for her.

A hollow laugh escaped him. Redemption. There would be none for him. His father had told him as much. And it was this conversation that returned to him as he waited to complete his mission…

He'd known it was coming. No one put a gun to John Winchester's head and got away with it. Not even his son. _Especially _his son. The Impala's sudden fishtail on a backwater road three weeks after the event had come almost as a relief.

"_Out."_

His father hadn't waited for him - his slammed door left no question regarding the order. He'd exited the car slowly, closing the door behind him and leaning back as he watched his father walk around to him. They'd stared at each other, Dean bracing himself for the ass-kicking he knew was coming…but wasn't sure he was going to take.

"_You listen, and you listen well, boy."_

He'd waited, the two of them locked in silent battle as they calmed the storm brewing within each of them. It was his father who had broken first, turning his back on Dean…

"_She said you were born to save lives, not take them. Said there was a…righteousness… in you that couldn't be… tainted…" _He'd frowned as he watched his father struggle with the words. _"She made me… promise there would never be any… blood on your hands." _He'd taken a breath that had made Dean's stomach drop. _"I didn't just break that promise, I crapped all over it."_

The pause this time had been almost painful. _"Because now I understand what she meant. Yours is a… righteousness… that…__**shouldn't **__be tainted… " _His father had shaken his head as he'd turned slowly, and Dean had seen the mistrust in his father's eyes. _"Because boy, when you let nothing, and I mean __**nothing, **__get in the way of a kill, then…"_

"_I become you?"_

"_Watch your mouth!" _He took a step towards his son, _"You keep going down this road, Dean, and there'll be nothing I can do to save you. There will __**be **__no redemption for you. And your mother..." _

He'd exploded off the car, his face inches from his father's, his gaze locked to John's. "_Stop blaming her, you sonofabitch." _He tried to control his breathing as his anger surged. _"I'm doing what she told…" _He stopped, glaring almost hatefully at his father, before turning and wrenching the door open, his voice filled with quiet menace. _"Don't you __**ever **__speak to me about her again. Or next time, I won't let __**anyone **__get in the way of my kill." _He'd paused. "_**Anyone.**__"_

It was the only order of his John had ever followed. He'd never once brought Mary up again. But he'd never really trusted Dean again either. That part cut deep, but not as much as defying his mother would. She'd given him a mission – Sammy – and nothing was going to stop him seeing that mission through.

He tightened his grip on the gun as he watched his enemy, his pistol held firm to his friend's head as he decided her fate.

Yeah, he was nobody's hero. But he needed to be Sam's…

* * *

My brother's keeper.

He understood the phrase like no other. His whole life had been based around it. From his very beginning, Dean had been his. _This _he had always understood. But he'd never believed he was Dean's. His brother didn't need him like he needed his brother – it had hurt like nothing else ever had. But it had also consumed him. He wanted nothing more than to be his brother's keeper – he just needed to figure out how.

He'd been locked in a battle with himself, searching for the epiphany he _knew _would make sense of his world - make sense of _him _and his place in 'd always believed that once he'd found it, once he _understood, _then the battle was won, and he would _be_ his brother's keeper.

He couldn't stop the laugh that rose darkly as the _real _epiphany slammed into him – it was a battle that could _never _be won.

Sam Winchester was a doomed soul. Always had been. He could _never _be his brother's keeper.

He tried to calm the raging sea of anger that surged through him, battling against the tide of inevitability that threatened to drown him. A tide that once, almost had. His lids closed slowly as he remembered the only conversation he and Dean had ever had about that fateful night that had changed both their lives forever….

Sam had refused to look at his big brother as Dean marched him out of the Principal's office of their latest school. He didn't need to look into Dean's eyes to see the disappointment - he knew it was there. Would _always _be there. He wanted nothing more than his brother's approval. And he'd stuffed up again.

_"Dean…"_

"_Not now, Sammy._

Dean had shuffled him out of the building, both of them hunching their shoulders against the biting Montana winter. Dean had glanced at him, slipped off his coat and placed it over Sam's shoulders.

"_Where's your coat? Where's your __**coat, **__Sammy?" _He'd asked again when Sam had just shrugged.

"_Doesn't matter."_

"_Yeah. It does. Where, Sammy?"_

Dean had pulled him to a stop when he'd refused to answer, putting Sam's small arms into the large jacket and buttoning it for him.

"_Sammy, you need to tell me who stole your coat."_

"_Why, Dean? It doesn't __**matter.**__"_

"_It matters to __**me, **__Sam. And it should matter to you, too." _He'd sighed and taken Sam's hand, leading him through the woodlands at the back of the school and to the secret hideaway Dean had found for them. He'd pushed Sam gently under the low hanging branches and into the small niche that could fit only the two of them.

Sam pulled his knees under his chin as Dean sat opposite him. _"I don't want to go home. Dad's gonna be angry at me."_

"_I'll handle Dad, Sam. And it's 'going to be angry __**with **__me'."_

Sam had shaken his head at his brother, _"Why do you make me study when you don't, Dean?"_

He'd waited his brother out, studying him. Dean was only twelve, but he was bigger, stronger, faster than most of the boys at the school. He knew this was true; his brother had borne the brunt of every bully in the place and walked away with nothing more than a smirk. He wanted so much to _be _his brother, to have his self-assuredness, his easy-going nature, his ability to adapt to any situation and fit in where Sam _never _could.

Dean had finally raised his eyes to him and Sam's stomach had dropped. _"__**Because **__Sammy, __**you're **__the one that's going to get out of… here. Do __**good **__things." _He'd nodded decisively,_ "I'll make sure of it."_

"_I don't __**want **__to get out of here!" _he'd protested. _"I want to stay with __**you!"**_

Dean had given him a gently smile, "_Sammy, you need to listen to me…"_

"_No, Dean! You need to listen to me!" _He'd brushed angrily at the tears that had spilled down his cheeks; he didn't want to appear weak in front of his brother. _"I'm not __**like **__you! I'm not smart! I'm not fast! I'm not __**nothing!" **_He took a shuddering breath as hopelessness overwhelmed him. "_I SHOULD HAVE DIED WITH MOMMY!__**"**_

Dean had moved quickly, taking Sam's head in his hands, his fingers digging into his scalp. _"You __**listen **__to me, Sam Winchester!" _

Sam had flinched. Dean _never _used his full name. Ever.

"_You __**never **__say that! Ever! You hear me! I will __**kick **__your ass!" _Dean's fingers had tightened painfully on his head. _"Mom….Mom…"_

"_WHAT? Tell me Dean! You don't talk about her! Daddy doesn't talk about her! It's not fair!"_

Dean had sighed, letting go of him and slumping back against the cave wall. _"Sammy…" _

"_Please, Dean! Tell me __**something! Please!" **_He'd waited as he watched his brother battle for the words. "_Did…did… she… love me?" _He'd asked quietly

Dean's eyes had snapped to his, _"She loved you more than anything, Sammy. More than __**anything." **_Dean had shifted his eyes to the cave opening, "_More than anything, Sammy, trust me. She… she always told me you were special. Said you were important too. Important for lots of reasons. Time would tell, she said, you just have to wait." _

He'd turned his gaze back to Sam, and Sam had seen something in his brother's eyes he'd never seen before and it had scared him more than anything else in his short life ever had…and ever would. _"You remember that Mom loved you more than anything in the whole world…always will. Sammy," _he'd smiled sadly. _"Always will."_

Sam had stared, frightened by the look in his brother's eyes. He hadn't known what it was at the time, now he did. And it broke his heart. His memory of haunted eyes too young to know that look, the slumped shoulders of a boy struggling to be a man… a boy who believed himself worthless. Dean carried a hurt so deep it had defined the man he'd grown to be - a man who had always believed himself unworthy; unworthy of love, unworthy of trust, unworthy of …being.

He also hadn't known that he'd said the right things to his brother at a time when Dean had needed him most… when Dean hadn't known he'd needed Sam just as much as Sam needed him.

"_No, Dean." _He'd said it softly, his brother now watching him. _"Mommy will always love __**both **__of us. Me __**and **__you. I don't remember her, Dean…but I __**miss **__her." _He'd taken his brother's hand this time, their roles now reversed as he became the big brother Dean so desperately needed. _"You remember her, you're the lucky one…but you're the unlucky one too."_

Dean had frowned, _"Unlucky?"_

Sam had nodded, _"Because you __**know **__what you're missing…I don't." _He'd looked deep into his brother's eyes, _"But if something happened to __**you,**__ Dean…I __**would. **__I don't want something to happen to you, because I would miss you like you miss Mommy." _He'd taken a breath, _"You're my hero, Dean."_

Dean had shaken his head, _"I'm nobody's hero, Sammy."_

"_Yes you are, Dean. You're my hero, and your Mom's hero, too. I know she'd he proud of you. Like I am."_

"_I'm nobody's hero, Sammy," _Dean had stated firmly.

"_Doesn't matter how much you say it, I __**know **__the truth, Dean. I __**know **__you saved me that night. Like Mommy wanted you to."_

"_You were just a baby, Sammy. You don't know what…"_

"_I __**know. **__And I'm gonna make you proud of me, Dean. I promise. And one day, I'm gonna be __**your **__hero. I'm gonna save __**you." **_He'd smiled at Dean, _"I am my brother's keeper."_

The wind that now whipped around the glade ruffled his hair the same way Dean had all those years ago in that small cave as his brother's words came back to him. _"Okay, Sammy. You and me, okay? You and me against the world."_

But it wasn't just him and Dean against the world this time. He had _always _been his brother's keeper, he understood that now; but as his eyes scanned the forest for Riley's return, he also understood that she was someone's keeper as well… and he and Dean were about to destroy that bond. A bond he held sacred.

He sighed. Shit, Riley….

* * *

A fighting chance.

That's all she wanted. It was all she'd ever wanted. Even as a child she'd been aware of it. She hadn't had the words for it, but she'd understood it. Understood how it felt, understood it would be her constant companion…understood how it suffocated her. It had been something she'd been battling her whole life, not quite understanding why, just…_understanding. _

When Jack had come into her life, he'd given her the fighting chance she needed, the tools with which to battle. He'd taken the burdens of a child too young to voice them, and turned them into her armour, her weapons. But he'd also given her something else - a love of life and everything in it. _That _was her real armour, her true weapon. And he'd taught her to wield it with wild abandon. _'Fight for it,'_ he'd always told her, _'fight for it and your right to have it, Riley,' _a smile always accompanying it, _'for the rights of others to have it too.'_

His lessons had always been patiently gentle, coaxing that hidden part of her that refused to step out from beneath the shadows that had forever plagued her. He'd given her an optimism that she now understood countered the darkness that lived within. She could _never _repay him for all he'd done for her, but she also knew in his eyes, she had. Her very existence had been enough for him.

She brushed angrily at the tears that pooled in her eyes as she raced through the forest - racing against time and the uber-bitch in the clearing. Now more than ever she wanted her father here, not the voice that had been whispering malevolently to her this last week, but the man that had saved her and put her on a path to save others. And that was what she was doing now. Saving Dee. Regardless of whether her friend believed she needed saving, Riley knew she was fighting the 'good fight'… the 'good fight'…

It was those words that triggered the memory…

Their first meeting had been volatile to say the least. Hell, Dee had almost killed her. She still bore the scar from that meeting, but then again, so did Dee. Only difference was, Riley's had come from a bullet, Dee's had come from the truth.

The vamp kill on the outskirts of Sydney had literally changed her life. It had almost cost it, too. It wasn't until she'd affected the kills that she realised someone else was here. But the realisation had come too late, the bullet slamming into her, pain screaming through her chest as she was pitched backwards, her own pistol flying from her hand.

She'd woken as icy water drenched her, a gasp escaping her as she shook her head, trying to clear it. The marvel of her survival was short-lived as she felt the binds that held her to the chair. She'd raised her eyes and stared into emotionless dark green ones. Long red hair rested over one shoulder, and the relaxed posture of the woman as she lounged in a chair opposite her belied the danger that pulsed from every part of her.

"_Glad you could join me."_

British. Interesting. _"My pleasure."_

Riley had seen the beginning of a smirk before the woman caught herself. _"I'm after answers."_

"_Aren't we all."_

The woman had nodded slowly. It was a measured move, one that held a hint of control but an innate predatory grace that only piqued Riley's interest.

"_Well, missy. How about we start with a name and go from there."_

"Sure. What was yours again? Probably missed it when you shot me."

The woman had laughed out loud this time, reaching into her jacket and getting a smoke. She'd leaned forward in her chair, her powerful arms resting on her knees. Riley knew a message when she saw one.

"_It's in your best interests to just __**answer."**_

Riley had nodded slowly, _"Probably is. Unfortunately…for the both of us, I'm guessing," _she'd smiled. _"Ain't gonna happen."_

The woman had leaned back, watching her carefully, studying her. _"Well, 'Dundee', lets skip the pleasantries and move right along to the torture."_

Riley had smiled, _"Sounds like a plan 'Red'." _She'd smiled again, _"But just before you do, can you answer a question that's __**totally **__unrelated to any of this?"_

The woman had raised an eyebrow quizzically, and Riley had smiled to herself. She'd noticed something about the woman as well. Jack had always said she had a gift for reading people, and she could feel her lifeblood running out of her…time wasn't on her side.

_"Why the fuck not?"_

"_Awesome," _Riley had smiled. She'd paused, the next words out of her mouth would seal her fate. _"Is this what __**he **__would have wanted for you? Is this what …"_

The slap had rocked her head sideways. She'd turned back to furious green eyes held inches from hers. _"Hit me all you like, Red, it doesn't change the fact that no amount of killing will bring him back."_

She'd never seen the blow that had knocked her out. But she'd woken, tied to a bed now, her shoulder bandaged and a gun held to her head.

"_Who told you about him?" _she'd demanded.

Riley had shaken her head slowly. _"No one. I don't know who 'he' is…I just know .. FUCK ME!" _She'd yelled as the woman had pressed her thumb against the bullet wound. _"Will you just __**chill!" **_She'd shaken her head again, _"Let me answer your goddamn question before you start digging into places you shouldn't!"_

"_ANSWER THE QUESTION! WHO TOLD YOU…"_

"_NO ONE!" _She'd motioned to the woman's left hand, _"You have a tan mark on your ring finger," _she motioned to the woman's right hand. _"And the ring is too small for that finger." _She'd sighed, _"I don't know anything about anyone. I'm just trying to save my life is all." _She'd looked into the woman's eyes, _"My name's Riley…" _Her jaw clenched, _"Cinnamon Riley. Yeah, laugh, it __**is **__ridiculous, but you remember that name, bitch. Every time you kill when you shouldn't. Remember __**my **__name, and __**my **__words to you." _

Now it was time to _really _hit the bitch. "_And know __**this. **__No matter how many demons, vamps, ghosties and ghoulies you kill, it won't bring him back, and you're dishonouring him by doing it in his name. Kill me, I don't give a shit, but think of another reason to do what you do. Life's too short to dwell in a past you can never return to." _

She'd sighed as the woman did nothing but stare venomously, but she saw the briefest flash of a pain so deep she could do nothing but feel for the woman. It was a pain she understood. She sighed again as she chose her final words, Jack's lessons coming back to her – 'fight for the rights of others to have it too' – this woman needed to understand that. And while she couldn't defend herself, she would help this woman if she could, she would _help _someone in the last moments of her life. That's what Jack would want.

"_Fight the __**good fight, **__Red. That's all we can do. Fight the good fight and hope it's enough."_

They'd never spoken of that day again. The day Dee had almost killed Riley, and the day Riley had brought Dee back from the dead. Their friendship had begun in blood and violence, she wouldn't let it end that way.

They were fighting the good fight. She always believed that.

It was time to remind Dee again…

* * *

Echoes.

That was all she was aware of. Voices loud and soft. Familiar and unfamiliar. Raging screams and malevolent whispers. It was her world now - an endless swirling vortex of accusations and condemnation in the open expanse of nothingness.

It was her sustenance, slowly poisoning her as it nourished the dark seed sown within the child she had once been, but had never had the chance to just be_. _A child whose very design had been manipulated and exploited from it's beginning. A child marked for nothing but death. Marked by the man who had given her life.

Hers had been a soul condemned before it's beginning. Her life nothing more than the passing of time as she awaited the only purpose for her being - sacrifice. It had broken the child she'd been, and defined the woman she had become. She was a woman whose life had never been her own; who didn't understand her insatiable need to protect those who could not protect themselves. But a woman who was driven to by a force for which even she was unaware, a force she didn't believe in.

Hope.

Her father had passed sentence over her before life was given, bestowing judgement on one without sin. He had forfeited an innocent, his claim on her nullified by the act itself. Dee Richardson now belonged to no one. It was _this _legacy her father had not anticipated, but it was a legacy of which her mother was unaware. Hope had ruled her tiny world for the first three years of her life, before her mother, in naïve ignorance and desperate heart, snatched it away – unwittingly condemning the child she was fighting so desperately to save.

But she'd had hope. And while it was locked in memories she could no longer access, it was still there, patiently chipping at its prison as it fought to be free. But now it was held captive by one whose claim hadn't been voided. One whose life depended on the darkness that had brought about the child's creation – who knew the child intimately, knew her secrets, knew her longings, her shame and her guilt. And who knew just how to use them against her. Secretly against her.

Her weapons were the voices, the voices of the dead. Voices that may have been long forgotten, but voices that held meaning, voices that attacked without mercy, voices that coerced a mind with relentless fury until it surrendered.

Lies and deception now ruled her. And she'd long since given up trying to rebel. It was a battle she could never win. So she listened to the voices, like a good soldier did. Reaching out for those that meant the most to her. Reaching out for one in particular. The one voice that had _never _been raised in anger against her, that had given her nothing but unconditional love and acceptance. A voice that had been cruelly ripped from her, forcing her to commit a heinous act … but an act that had been driven by that same unconditional love.

She reached out for him now, trying to pull him to her, wanting desperately to connect with him again, if only for a moment. But unlike before, when his voice had been painfully wrenched from her, she heard him. _Him. _His final words to her wrapping tenderly around her, whispering softly and with the same love he'd given her as she'd given him back his life by taking it….

"_Thank you, baby."_

And it was the quiet acceptance of his thanks, accepting it in its honesty as she finally let go of her guilt that opened the door for another voice. A voice that whispered just as intimately at her ear, sneaking past her vigilant captors and awakening another – a voice she didn't recognise, but one which stirred a memory that had been slowly fighting to be free…a memory that would come crashing back with catastrophic consequences….

"_See you in Hell…"_

**_Finale bound..._**


	18. Dies Irae

_

* * *

_

Yep, it has been a long time coming - apologies all round. We're not **quite **at the end, but we're pretty damn close. Hang in there, folks, it ain't gonna be pretty!

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything 'Supernatural' (alas). __**However, **__this story, and the characters of Riley and Dee are mine. Anyone who says different will have their arse kicked._

_* This chapter is rated for language and violence. beat And someone could die… which would fall under the 'violence' warning I just gave. * _

* * *

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Eighteen.**

'_**Dies Iræ'**_

The summoning had begun.

'_Dies irae, dies illa,_

_Solvet saeclum in favilla,_

_Teste David cum Sybila.'_

The words slipped unbidden from her lips. Lifting her arms to the heavens, her voice rose as she invoked the primeval power held within the sacred site. Dark clouds rolled ominously towards the glade, thundering their intent as lightening screamed across angry skies. Small tremors shifted the ground as a slow rumble stirred deep beneath the earth, climbing dangerously upwards …

'_Mors stupebit et natura!_

_Cum resurget creatura!_

_Judicanti responsura!'_

Her voice competed with the tempest building around her, her serpentine eyes like amber beacons, radiating dark fury. Golden tresses hissed about her face, snapping on the wind that twisted around her; but her crimson robes remained unnaturally still as she incited the maelstrom…

'_Judex ergo cum orior,_

_Quidquid latet apparebit,_

_Nil inultum remanebit.'_

She splayed her hands, her fingers stretching towards the skies as her feet dug into the dirt. Heaven and earth. She would be the conduit between the two - the master of both. She would control the elements, she would _show_ the 'great-unwashed' her power, and they would fall to their knees in servitude.

A delicious shiver ran through her as she felt the ancient energy recognise the power of those waiting in the background. It knew they were here – the four little soldiers gifted her. Two had broken down the doors between Heaven, Hell and Earth, breaching what should _never _be breached. And in that forbidden moment, when the holy, the unholy, and those they battled over had connected, she had slipped out of myth and into her destiny. Their victory over Lilith had brought about her dawn, but the power held within those two paled in comparison to that of her Promised One. She was the one that held the true power - a soul teetering on the brink. And not just any soul either, but one condemned before its beginning.

She was the key to it all.

Conceived in Her name, and promised by her father - the last Keeper of the Creed - he had marked his daughter for sacrifice. It was a mark her mother had unwittingly blessed, believing it was Foresight Sybil had bestowed upon her unborn daughter; that their child would be the living link to their Mistress, not the sacrifice that would bring about Her dominion.

But a careless demon and vengeful hunter had destroyed the Keeper's plans. Her rebirth had been denied, the child lost until She had been called upon to bless a substitute. But betrayal and hunter had struck again, only this time it had yielded a 'juncture' – a powerfully rare phenomenon that offered one access to their destiny. This was not like the pathways that ghost around life's crossroads, offering different routes to the same destination, but a doorway that opens to an altogether different destiny – an opportunity for _real _choice, a chance to defy the gods. But they were almost always catastrophically cruel. The unbridled energy needed to create the anomaly ensured it. Her Promised One had juncture upon juncture, each one increasing in power as they interwove with the other pre-destined hunters.

She had been shown the opportunity for infinite power if she allowed her Promised One and the others to walk their own paths, to cross each others…if only for a little while. Therein lay the risk. It was a double-edged sword. To gain their power, she had to allow her enemy unwitting access to it.

The rewards, the promise of dominion and glory were too tempting to refuse. She had protected herself this time, she would not be denied again. Not again. She affected her Promised One's link to the substitute, ensuring the woman's first step into the juncture, and her first step towards Her. Her Promised One would bring the sacrifice, the sacrifice, in turn, would bring two powerful soldiers. Then the games would really begin.

She smiled…_had _begun. She would shatter the allegiances she had carefully created between them, and she would foster their mistrust of each other. She would destroy their loyalty, their beliefs, and with it, their minds as she moulded them to Her will. They would ensure Her absolute power, and she would take revenge on those whom had battled to keep her locked in the catacombs of time.

She raised her hands higher as she called her soldiers home. Turning slowly, a smile dripping from her lips, she felt the ground shift beneath her feet as the first two puppets stepped onto Her stage…

* * *

Ginny's eyes never strayed from Sybil as she and Bobby headed with determined step towards their enemy. She'd been waiting thirty years for this day to come, preparing for the fight of her daughter's life. Her daughter's _and_ Dee's. She knew her responsibility lay with _both _of them.

She looked over as Bobby took her hand. What a mess. A small laugh escaped her; she was walking towards her death, taking strength from the hand of the man that had sworn to kill her the next time he saw her. How the hell had that happened? She laughed again. Karma sure did have a wicked sense of humour.

Bobby turned incredulous eyes to the laughing woman at his side, 'Stop it!' he hissed, which only made her laugh harder. 'Are you _crazy?' _He squeezed her hand painfully, _'Virginia!'_

'It's _Ginny, _Bobby. If we're going to get our asses handed to us on a plate, call me Ginny.'

'Well that's promising,' he muttered as they drew to a stop fifteen feet from Sybil. He had taken in everything about her from the minute she had entered the glade. This wasn't a simple demon they were dealing with here. This bitch was going to be a hard kill. But standing here, thirty years in the making, and looking at the evil he had fought so hard to keep from coming through…he was a little disappointed.

Sybil cocked her head, the all-too-wide smile getting wider, 'What exactly was it you expected, _hunter?'_

Bobby hid his wince. Her voice burned like acid through his ears. 'Something….more,' he shrugged. Raising his eyes to the heavens before dropping them slowly to Sybil's, he mirrored her smile. 'Too cliché.' He looked around the glade, 'the storm, the growling earth, the full moon shining through perfectly… ' He returned his attention to Sybil, Ginny pinching his hand painfully. 'I've been doing this a long time, missy, but you probably already know that, dontchya?' He laughed, 'I dunno, I guess I just expected better from the likes of you.'

It was Ginny turning incredulous eyes this time. '_Who's _crazy?'

Bobby shrugged again, glancing at Sybil who watched on, bemused. 'Meh. If I'd known _this _was what I was dealing with thirty years ago, I'd have let the bitch through.'

The laugh that filled the glade was cold, dead, and filled with a resonant evil that locked you in its painful embrace. Bobby had never felt so…unclean. Sybil looked at him, right _at _him, and it took all his strength to stop his legs giving out.

'_Nil inultum remanebit!' _She spat. 'You will _suffer _for your crimes!' A poisonous smile rose to her lips, 'At the hands of your _boys._' She stepped towards him, _'My_ soldiers,' she whispered.

'_Sentio non nisi vos exsisto sentio,'_ Bobby returned the whisper.

Her laugh scoured over him again, 'I am the only _judge _here, hunter. Look around you. Above you.' She raised her arms to the skies, thunder and lightning grazing across the heavens. 'Beneath you.' She shifted the earth at her feet, the ground rumbling under her touch. She leaned in close. 'There is no escape for _you.'_

Sybil turned hateful eyes to Ginny. 'And you,' she purred. 'You will watch the child _I _blessed torn apart in front of you.' She ran an almost tangible finger down Ginny's cheek, 'and I will feed you her heart,' she smiled, 'my gift to you for bringing her to me.'

Ginny fought the fear, the primal revulsion of Sybil's touch. This was no longer about her. 'You think I haven't been preparing for this day? You think I haven't done _my _homework? I didn't let you take my daughter then, and I'm sure as shit not letting you take her now.'

'We shall see.'

Sybil smiled, a smile that brought a surging wave of terror to Virginia Ackerman_. _The wind began to pick up around her, the dirt at her feet now small, stinging projectiles that battered her legs. But it was the murmur of voices held within that wind that filled her with dread. Her fear rose with the voices, her blood turning to ice as the calls for retribution began to stalk her.

'_No…please…'_

The wind increased, spinning wildly around her legs, the murmurs now harsh as they whipped at her. Smashing into her at almost subliminal speed, Ginny was powerless to stop the sensory assault. They were whispers no more, but accusations shrieked at her in voices filled with wretched betrayal. Voices she knew.

Ginny screamed as the earth trembled beneath her, the ground shifting violently around her. She felt a tug to her arm, and a scream of pure terror burst from her. Jerking her hand free, she stumbled as terror claimed ownership. She fell to her knees, a sob escaping her as she tried desperately to get to her feet. Another scream burst free, then another and another as the earth began to fracture beneath her. Jagged cracks split the ground around her, wrenching the earth apart at her feet. She howled as the first hand gripped the earth, the fingers digging into the ground as he dragged himself from the pit. His eyes were aglow with hateful vengeance, his smile delivering her fate as the owners of the voices, her _judges _clambered out of Hell to pass sentence over her…

Bobby didn't want to take his eyes off Sybil, but this wasn't part of his and Ginny's plan. Grabbing at Ginny, he tried to calm her, but the fear, the terror he saw alight in her eyes as she focussed on something only _she _could see, he could not combat. He cocked his head, turning sharply as he heard a voice whisper past his ear. He spun again as it floated past his other ear, the intimate whisper awakening a flood of fear. Sybil was forgotten. Ginny was forgotten. He stumbled back, the ground tearing open before him as her fingers scraped out of the earth. Bobby fell to knees, his begging beginning as her missed voice brought about his reckoning…

* * *

The air was charged with electricity, and Sam was charged with adrenalin as he prepared for another battle for his and his brother's lives. He dropped his gaze to the groan at his side, to _her _lapdog. The man was beginning to wake with the incoming storm, and Sam needed the asshole quiet until _he _was ready. Putting his fingers to exactly where Riley had shown him, he pressed hesitantly at first, then more firmly when the man began to struggle under the pressure at his throat. He finally fell still, but not before staring into Sam's eyes with hate-filled fear. Shit. Well, that was a pleasant experience, and an awesome tool to now have at his disposal. Thanks Riley.

Ignoring the guilt at what he was about to put Riley through, he kept a hand on the man's shoulder and turned his attention to the clearing. His grip tightening on his pistol, his jaw clenching as he reined in his rage.

Sybil.

She was malevolently beautiful. Her hair, spun gold that cracked like metal whips on the wind. Her eyes, shining amber jewels with a reptilian blink; and her body, a carnal temple that demanded your soul and nothing less.

Sam looked at the unconscious man at his feet – he had given more than just his soul to the 'vampire' in the clearing. There wasn't one part of him that wasn't scoured, _flayed. _He was covered in wounds, open and …_re-_opened. The stench of rot hit Sam in the back of the throat, and he put his hand to his nose as he ran a quick eye over what was left of the man's torso. He was barely more than a skeleton, and what little flesh he could see, had splashes of iridescent bone that glistened in the shifting moonlight. The man was a decaying canvas… and the perfect illustration of what Sybil's rule meant.

Flicking his gaze back to the glade, he listened carefully as Sybil's voice cut through the enshrouding storm. They were effectively cut-off. Instinctively checking his weapons; one part of Sam's mind automatically translated the Latin, while another rapidly scrolled through all the information and misinformation he had been fed since this had begun. Understanding was in there somewhere. The creation of this much chaos told him as much.

However searching for an answer amidst the lies, on a clock that was quickly running down, Sam was _certain _of only one thing – now wasn't the time to show themselves. This whole…production had to be played a certain way. He knew it. And he was sure Dean knew it as well…wherever the hell Dean was. His stomach tightened, he _needed _to get in contact with his broth…

His trigger-finger twitched as Riley crouched soundlessly beside him.

'_Shit!' _he hissed, cuffing her up the back of the head. 'Don't _do _that!'

'_Ow!' _She cuffed him back, 'Don't _make_ me give you a wedgie.'

Ignoring Sam's pulled face, Riley glanced into the glade before quickly checking the man at their feet. Frowning, she peered closer as she motioned to the clearing. 'You getting all this?'

Sam nodded as he maintained his silent translation, 'Yeah.' Remembering what Riley had said about hearing Jack, he watched her closely. 'You know what it is.'

It wasn't a question, and Riley didn't answer. One look at Sam and she knew they were on the same page. Putting her hands under the man's shoulders, she shifted him into a brighter patch of moonlight. 'And how's that for the final confirmation?'

'Jesus…'

Sam hadn't been able to see the wounds this clearly, but now…_Jesus, _now he could. One word carved over and over. Not one piece of skin had been spared. Lifting his gaze to Riley, his stifled a shiver. He could see the dark clouds behind her, tumbling and rolling in on each other, thunders' roar growing with each word Sybil uttered. It was a roar matched by the deep growl rumbling through the earth, warning of the power simmering just below the surface, waiting for the command to erupt.

'Plan. Now.'

Riley nodded. 'Dean has Dee.'

'Where's Dean?'

Riley slipped the rifle from her back, her gaze going to the spot she had retrieved the weapon – the one Dean knew she would return for. Scanning the surrounding forest quickly, a barely noticeable wince was her only concession as her throat pulsed.

'There,' she pointed.

Sam cocked his head. 'Like one-hundred-and-ten-percent sure.' Again, it wasn't a question. 'Riley, Dean tracked you through….that…' he pointed to the bites to her throat. 'The mojo you used on him…'

'I didn't use any mojo on Dean,' Riley interrupted. 'I'm only saying that once, Sam. Ask your brother. He'll tell you the same.' She tossed him the rifle. 'One shot. Make it count.'

'A bullet won't kill her, Riley,' Sam derided.

'S'not for her,' said Riley with a smile, leaning over and whispering quickly in his ear.

Riley sat back on her heels, Sam staring at her for what seemed like an eternity before he finally nodded and whispered quickly in return. Dog–boy at their feet may be out, but neither he nor Riley was taking any chances.

Sam leaned back this time, his gaze locked to Riley's as they took in their plan. Riley didn't have the information he did, and he didn't have hers…but they had drawn the same conclusion. He was sure Dean had as well. They all held different pieces of the puzzle – separately, that information was as confusing as it was useless, that was why they had been manipulated away from each other. But together, and thinking clearly, they could beat this bitch, and She knew it.

Still, it was the thinking clearly that was screwing them over, that _would _screw them over if they didn't take back control of the situation, and control of themselves. Riley needed to understand that more than anyone.

'Dee's not on our side, Riley.' Sam stated firmly. 'She was the one that shot me.'

'She's on our side a little,' Riley stated with equal certainty. 'She knows you're right-handed, she left you your good arm.' She grinned, 'Trust me.'

'Pain in the ass,' he muttered, hiding a smile. He looked her in the eye, understanding passing between them. He nodded, 'Go.'

'Yeah, aaah…just on that? I can't lift this dude, but I can carry him...it's a knee thing…'

'Chicks,' Sam muttered, shaking his head with a small smile and ducking Riley's swipe. He picked the man up easily and placed him over Riley's shoulder, 'You got him?'

'Lighter than I thought…which really isn't surprising.' She adjusted the man slightly and gave Sam a smile, 'Good to go.' She hesitated, not knowing what to say after what she'd asked of him. 'Sam…'

Sam rolled his eyes, trying to make light of the situation. He knew what he'd asked of her. 'Just go. You made me pinky-swear, okay? And if you tell anyone I did that, I'll kick your ass.'

'Yeah?' Riley laughed softly, 'you and whose army, Winchester?' She smiled, nodded once, turned and began to move into the shadows.

'Riley!'

She turned back, 'What!'

'Try not to kill him!'

Riley gave Sam the finger and disappeared into the darkness as Sam moved off in the opposite direction; both following a plan that had been hatched in less than three minutes, and with fractured information. Yep, things were pretty much going the way the always did. Sam smiled to himself as he moved silently through the forest - the bitch had unwittingly manoeuvred them into their comfort zone.

* * *

Dean felt every hair on his body stand on end, His skin prickled and adrenalin surged through his body as ancient evil suffocated the glade. Unlike most people, this brought about a steadying calm. _This _was Dean's domain and he ruled it with a tyrannical fist.

He listened carefully to everything around him, the storm, the ground, the otherwise deathly-silent forest as he deciphered the words that hung caustically over the glade…

'_Day of Wrath. Day of mourning. A day that will dissolve in ashes. As foretold by David and Sybil.'_

The barely perceptible widening of his eyes was the only allowable admission to his surprise at actually seeing the Latin spinning and twisting around Sybil as the words spewed forth…

'_Death and nature will be astounded, when they see the creature rise again, to be the rightful judge.'_

Dean frowned, his mind picking through the library of sources at his command. Something wasn't right with this. It was familiar, but something just wasn't right. A small smile worked its way over his lips…

Requiem.

It all made fucking _sense _now. He laughed hollowly, as everything started to slot neatly into place. _Prayer for the Dead, my ass, _the bitch had changed the words to suit her. What was it with demons and their megalomaniacal tendencies? And always with the theatrics…

'_And when the judge has risen, all that is hidden will appear, and nothing will go unpunished.'_

_No shit, _Dean thought as his grip tightened on his pistol, his mind processing each new piece of information and cataloguing it. He placed the pistol at the back of Dee's head when she began to rise.

'Not now,'he whispered, making her listen to him as she dropped slowly back to her knees. 'Soon, Dee.' His voice was a gentle caress as he seduced her insanity. 'We do this and everything will be all right. Like I promised.'

'Like you promised.' Dee whispered. 'See you in hell like you promised. See you in hell.'

'That's right, Dee. See you in hell. See you in hell. Seeyouinhellseeyouinhellseeyouinhell…'

He whispered soothingly into Dee's ear, his pistol not straying from the base of her skull as he scanned the forest for Riley. He had felt Riley return and retrieve the rifle he had left for her, another smile touching his lips as he tracked her unnoticeable progress back through the woods – back to Sam.

He smiled as he 'watched' her move off again, keeping well within the treeline. Good. She and Sammy knew now wasn't the time for show and tell. It wasn't their turn. He knew it. Sammy and Riley knew it. And so did the bitch in the clearing…she had _always_ known.

His mind instantly changed its course of thinking. If you believed in the legend (and she was standing in the middle of the clearing whipping up a storm of apocalyptic proportions in front of him), Sybil was the Prophetess of all prophetesses – they had never had the element of surprise. She had known they would come, just like she knew this day was always coming.

His mind clicked into overdrive as his adrenalin surged again – the show was about to begin. His gaze locked on Riley's progress on the far side of the clearing. He knew where she and Sammy were heading. Good. His eyes flicked back to his enemy, his mind continuing to rapidly put puzzle piece after puzzle piece together.

The first piece had been Riley telling him about Jack visiting her in a dream – he had called her Cinnamon, not Riley, and she had said it didn't sound right coming from Jack's lips. He had told her his mom had called her 'Cin' – he hadn't liked it either. He would speak with Sam, Riley insisting it was Sam _only. _Something was off with Dee, and Riley would sort it out. Until then, they would keep it between the three of them until they figured out what they were up against _this_ time.

They'd had less time then they had thought. None really. And now, here they were, at a battle they knew was coming but hadn't the time to properly prepare. He allowed himself a small smile – welcome to _my _war, bitch. He knew what this was. It was a covert operation like no other. His enemy walked with kindred step, spoke with familial intimacy - awakening his vulnerability with memory's ghostly touch. Strategically haunting his mind with violations past, he was offered redemption if he just listened, listened and obeyed_._

And listen he did. He could still hear the soft voice of his mother whispering comfortingly in the background, but his father had trained him well – his 'lessons' instinctively kicking in at the first hint of unease. He still kept her voice close, but now the words were just words. It was the soft lilt of her voice that he held to. This was what he armoured himself with, this was what he would use to protect Sammy and Riley. No one would touch them. No one would touch what was his. And the bitch standing in front of him was going after what was his. _**Mine. **_Not on his watch. And not today…

_Click._

And there it was. Today.

He leaned forward, his lips soft against Dee's ear. 'They're almost here, Dee…you ready?' Dee gave a perfunctory nod. Dean changed his tone slightly, he didn't need Dee on edge…just yet. 'It's just me now, Dee, just me…you ready?'

Dean watched Dee's shoulders relax, her fists slowly unclenching as she listened to him. He ignored the disgust he felt for doing this to her, to his friend, but _nothing _was going to stop him from saving Sammy and saving Riley. He would use every tool, every trick, and every weapon at his disposal. He had to. Evil wouldn't win this time. Not this time.

His throat pulsed, his gaze finding Riley immediately as she and Sam drew to a stop on the opposite side of the clearing.

They were in position.

His gaze flicked to Bobby and Virginia as they stepped out of the forest and into the clearing, a deep growl shaking the earth beneath him.

_This _day.

The day Bobby Singer killed Isobel Richardson. The day Virginia Ackerman saved her unborn daughter Cinnamon Riley. The day Dee Richardson watched Bobby Singer kill her mother. And the day, 66 days to be exact, from the day he, Dean Winchester and Riley had killed Lilith.

But Sam… where did Sam fit into all of this? All the players were here – Bobby, Virginia, Dee, Riley and him. He was missing something, a _vital _something. Sam… Sam…Sam… Sam had been there the day they'd killed Lilith, but it had been he and Riley who had delivered the fatal strike - Riley's ancestors and Jack… He cocked his head. Jack Riley had been there that day, too…

_Sonofabitch! _He couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. Jack Riley, you goddamn _crazy _sonofabitch! Now, more than ever, he wished he'd known the man. He shook his head with a laugh. Jack had been fighting _two _wars – Lilith _and _Sybil. He'd known. Jack had figured it out early, and he'd prepared. Requiem, Prayer for the Dead – Jack knew Sybil would use him, his voice, and the voices of those they loved to bring them to their knees. _No one _called Riley 'Cinnamon', especially Jack. He knew it would send up a red flag for Riley. How Jack had managed to get his Mom to call Riley 'Cin', he didn't know, but he knew it would set off alarm bells for him. He'd given them warning… but he'd given them something else.

Sam.

He smiled to himself. Riley had said Jack had loved to play poker - Sammy was the ace up their sleeve. Dean's eyes flicked back to opposite side of the clearing, his throat throbbing steadily as he concentrated – and Jack had said Riley was a better poker player than he…. another smile touched his lips. Sam wasn't with Riley…

His gaze flicked to the clearing again as Bobby and Ginny drew to a stop ten feet from Sybil. He winced as pain seared through his throat. _'Easy, baby…easy…' _he whispered. Seemed Sam forgot to tell Riley a little somethin' somethin'.

Putting a hand under Dee's arm, he pulled her gently to her feet, the pain in his throat slowly subsiding as Riley regained control. He stepped behind Dee, his body close to hers, his voice soft in her ear.

'Can you see, Dee? Can you _see?_'

The nod was slow and measured, 'Seeyouinhell.'

'That's my girl,' he whispered, putting the gun to her head and closing his hand over the cable-ties at her wrists. 'We do this…'

'And see you in hell.'

'See you in hell.'

'Seeyouinhell, seeyouinhell, seeyouinhell, seeyouinhell….'

Dean and Dee stepped into the clearing…

* * *

Riley moved as best she could through the forest surrounding the clearing. The man on her shoulder was light for someone his size, but that didn't mean he was an easy carry. Her knee throbbed painfully, and it felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing her shoulder. She wiped sweat from her brow, as she ducked around the trees, a small 'oh' escaping her when her hand came back bloody. She couldn't stop to stem the bleeding, she had to get to the opposite side of the clearing to Dean. She allowed a quick glance, her throat pulsing as she found him instantly. Just a little further.

She was under no illusions that Sybil knew the location of each of them. She knew who the bitch was. Riley allowed a small smile. The bitch didn't know who her Dad was though, and that would be her undoing.

Riley arrived at her position, moving behind dense cover before dropping the man to the ground. Crouching, a small smile rose to her lips - Sybil believed she knew the location of all of them. Dropping her gaze to the man at her feet, she patted him lightly on the cheek.

'You're no Sam, but you'll do for now.'

Riley saw movement to her left, confusion flickering across her features. Sam wasn't supposed to… _Mum? _Her heart raced. _No, Mum! __No, no, no, no, no! _Riley rose from her crouch, taking a step towards the clearing, but her father voice sounded loudly through her – 'NO'. She hesitated, this wasn't the voice that had been whispering malevolently to her, this was _Jack. _

Riley hadn't felt such indecision. Her instinct was to run to the clearing and get her mother the hell out of Sybil's way. Her Mum had _no _idea what she was dealing with, and it was a sure-fire death sentence. She couldn't lose her Mum… and what the _hell _was her Mum doing here in the first place? And holding hands with Bobby? He _hated _her mother. He'd told her, and that was the _one _thing the man hadn't lied about. Decision and indecision warred. Stay. Go. Stay. Go. It wasn't until she heard… _'easy, baby, easy'… _whisper over her in Dean's voice, that she started to settle.

Dean knew her Mum was here, which meant Dean had a plan. She looked across the clearing, and dropped into a crouch, her knee resting on the man's chest.

'Okay, baby,' she whispered. 'Your call.'

She watched, and listened, waiting for her turn to take the stage…

* * *

Dean tried to keep his eyes focussed on Sybil as he sauntered into the clearing, but watching Bobby and Ginny scramble around the dirt, fearful screams and terrified yells tearing from them as they fought to be free of their invisible demons, made it damn hard.

Dee's continual whispering was growing louder as they advanced, turning into a menacing growl with each predatory step.

'Seeyouinhell. Seeyouin_hell. _See_you_in_hell!' _

'That's it, Dee. You know who's been messing with us. She lied the whole fucking time,' he whispered. 'You remember our plan though, you stick to it, and everything will be all right. I promise.'

'I know, baby,' Dee whispered. 'I _miss _you.'

Dean's stomach churned at the heartache he heard in Dee's voice. 'I miss you too, baby.' He was such an asshole. He pushed that thought from him. He was here to save Sammy and Riley. Sammy and Riley. _**Mine. **_

'Seeyouinhell. Seeyouin_hell. _See_you_in_hell!' _

Pulling Dee to a stop, Dean waited. He knew Sybil was aware they were on her periphery, but she was playing her game as well. He waited. As hard as it was, he had to wait. He cocked his head. _You know what? Fuck it. _

Dean moved his pistol quickly, his stomach dropping as he pulled the trigger. Dee cried out, her shoulder exploding in blood and flesh. She stumbled, Dean pulling her back harshly as Sybil snapped her head towards them.

'Got your attention, did I?' he smiled nastily. 'Thought it might.'

He felt his throat pulse. Riley wasn't happy, and from the look on Sybil's face, she wasn't either. Ticked the first box – one pissed off mega-bitch. He grinned, and Sybil wasn't happy either. He cocked his head, laughing when he heard '_arse kicking' _whisper through him. Seems whatever power held within this site gave he and Riley another link to each other. Cool. Walkie-talkies without the walkie-talkies.

'You want to play?' Sybil crooned. 'Lets play.'

Dean held his wince as Sybil's voice cut like razors through him, and it took all his strength to not yell as Sibyl raised her arm and drew it sharply towards the earth.

Lightning streaked from the sky, exploding into the forest that hid Riley. Dean's heart skipped one beat, then two as flames began to spiral to life around a now blackened tree. _'Okay…' _Dean heard, his heart slowing as his jaw set.

'You think I won't kill your brother and your _whore?'_

Dean hid his surprise – Sybil believed Sammy was with Riley… but she wouldn't make a mistake like that… would she? Damn, Riley _did _know how to play poker... might have to play some strip poker after they killed this bitch. He grinned at Riley's '_you're on.'_

Dean glared at Sybil, 'you're not killing anyone today, bitch. See, here's the thing,' Dean smiled. 'I got your sacrifice here,' he pushed Dee a little then drew her back against him. 'Now killing her… that just don't sit right with me.' Dean tried not to laugh when he saw Dee twitch – she was still in there somewhere. 'I mean, she took a pot-shot at my brother, tried to kill me, so I'm not gonna lose sleep over her death… but… that's not how this is going to play is it?' He smiled, 'you're a shifty bitch, but…' His smile was as malevolent as Sybil's. 'Never underestimate your enemy.'

His gaze flicked to the far side of the clearing, and his smile faltered when he saw Riley step from the clearing. Anger flooded through him as he saw the blood that covered her, that she walked with a limp as she pushed what could barely be called a man, in front of her. He was struggling to keep his feet, but it was the carvings that littered his skin that showed the madness Sybil instilled.

Dean could see the rage and confusion spreading through Sibyl as Riley shoved at the skeleton that stumbled ahead of her. Dean's eyes flicked to Bobby and Ginny. With Sibyl distracted, Bobby had regained a little of his composure and was trying to quietly coax Ginny from her demons. A nod from Bobby, and he returned his attention to Riley.

She pulled up opposite him and smiled, 'Hey, handsome.'

Dean grinned as Riley tightened her grip on 'Skeletor', her dagger held firmly at the man's throat. 'Let me guess,' he grinned again. 'This iiiiiis…. David.'

'Aww, and Sammy said you couldn't read.'

Riley wanted to look at her mother, but she knew that while Sybil was concentrating on her and Dean, her mother would stand a better chance at surviving this. Her mother's screams had turned to whimpers, and she could hear Bobby trying to calm her. While she hated it, she had to trust that Bobby would help her mother while she, Dean and Sam took this bitch out.

'Sammy said I couldn't read?' Dean shook his head with a laugh, 'Wait 'til I see that young whippersnapper.'

'_SILENCE!'_

Lightning streaked from the heavens, the glade exploding in as the trees did. Thunder boomed overhead and the ground shook as Sybil invoked the elements to do her biding. Riley kept her gaze locked to Dean's, she couldn't look at Dee, not yet. While she knew madness had a firm grip on her best friend, she didn't want to see it in Dee's eyes. _'Plan?' _she heard Dean whisper to her, and she nodded.

Sybil lowered her arms, the lightening and thunder ceasing immediately. The silence was deafening in its suddenness. Turning her serpentine eyes to Riley, she smiled wrathfully, 'Your time draws near, little one.' Sybil smiled, 'and my reign will begin.' She turned to Dean, 'Let. Her. Go.'

'Aaah, no.'

'I order you…'

'Heard you the first time, bitch. Ain't gonna happen.'

'Oh yes it is,' Sybil laughed, 'you _belong _to me.'

'Nope,' Riley smiled at Dean, 'He's mine.'

Sybil laughed, the caustic sting of it making all those within the glade wince. 'Yours? You are nothing but a means to an end.' She smiled nastily, 'let me tell you a story…'

'Here we go,' Riley muttered.

Ignoring her, Sybil continued, 'Once upon a time,' she laughed, 'there were two pawns, lets call them… Isobel and Virginia. Isobel had a baby, we'll call her … Dee,' she smiled at Riley. 'Dee was a special child, brought into existence and promised to me, the spilling of her _blood _promised to me.. Now Isobel did a foolish thing, she ran thinking she could escape me, tsk, tsk…'

'This going somewhere?' Riley asked.

'Oh yes, you see Isobel had a score to settle with someone, lets call him, Jack. So with a little help from Virginia and a _lot _of help from me, Jack and Virginia had a wee baby, we'll call her….Cinnamon – ridiculous name, but then we can't help the sins of our mother can we?' She laughed, 'spoiled for choice, Dee…Cinnamon… Dee… Cinnamon… which one would bring about my dominion? Both promised to me by their _mothers. Both _belong to me!' she hissed. Turning to Dean, she smiled, 'and you, did you not think I foresaw your connection to her? Your connection to the one that killed Isobel? You were always meant to be my soldier, and we all know that where you go, so does your brother.' Her laugh grazed over them, 'so beautifully choreographed, listening so well to those voices you so miss,' her eyes blazed, 'YOU BELONG TO ME!'

'Nope,' Dean grinned.

Sybil turned to Riley, 'betrayed by your _mother,' _she hissed, 'you exist only at my will, you are _mine!_'

Dean laughed softly, 'wrong again, bitch.' He looked at Riley and grinned, 'I meant her.'

'You're hilarious.'

Dean flicked his gaze to Sybil, his smile filled with cold, calculating menace. 'Did _you _not think we didn't see this coming?' He shook his head with a laugh, '_Tsk! Tsk!'_ He glared at her, 'know your enemy. And you're ours, bitch, make no mistake.'

'Cinnamon…'

'Stay there, Mum,' Riley ordered.

'Cin, you don't…'

'I said _stay there.' _Looking at Sybil, Riley smiled, 'the sins of my mother, huh?'

'Cin…'

Sybil smiled, 'always on a path to me, a destiny you _cannot _escape.' Her eyes moved over them, '_all _of you. So perfectly bound to me…'

'Yeah, just on that,' Dean laughed. 'Show her, baby.'

'Hands are little full, Dean,' Riley rolled her eyes.

'I can take that bag of bones, Riley,' Bobby stated, stepping towards Riley and putting out his hands.

Riley's heart skipped a beat when her gaze fell to Bobby's hands…she knew those hands. They were the one's that were coming for Dean. She tightened her grip on 'David', 'stay the fuck there!'

'Riley, just…' Bobby started.

'Don't come any closer, arsehole,' Riley angered, 'and you stay the _hell _away from Dean!'

_Easy, Riley, _she heard Dean's voice in her head. _Bobby's on our side, I promise. _'No,' she shook her head, 'I saw…_no.' _

_Riley, I trust Bobby like I trust you and Sammy. Calm down, he's not going to hurt me, I promise you._

'No,' Riley shook her head. 'I won't let him hurt you.'

Sybil's laugh rang out over the glade, 'that's right, he's the one that murdered Dee's mother, that wanted to kill you. He _has _blood on his hands, you've seen it…I know you have…and you know who he's going for next.'

'Riley, look at me,' Dean ordered, '_look _at me…'

She flicked her eyes to Dean's giving him a sad smile, 'Sorry, baby…' she whispered.

'Sorry?' he frowned.

'NOW SAM!'

* * *

Sam moved the scope over the people and the mega-bitch in the clearing, listening as best he could to the conversation. His heart was racing, his palms sweating, and every nerve in his body was on fire as his mind screamed at him to _not _pull the trigger. He knew, despite all his misgivings, that this was the only way to give them the upper hand in this battle. They would not survive otherwise.

He heard Riley's yell, focussed on his target, said a quick prayer, took a steadying breath, and pulled the trigger…

_**To be continued…**_

'


	19. A Special Place in Hell

**A/N: Yeah, I know, I suck at updating. Apologies to everyone. I wanted this chapter to be the final one, but it took on a life of it's own (again), so the finale will be a two-parter, but you have my word, the second part will be up in the next couple of days. Promise. **

**Standard disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Supernatural (as much as I'd like to), nor do I have any claim over the characters of the show (I'd like that also), but the characters of Riley, Dee and Ginny - and anyone else who creeps from my somewhat warped imagination - belong to me and ONLY me. Anyone who says that ain't true will have my foot lodged firmly up their arse. It ain't a pleasant experience. Trust me.**

**The usual warning for swearing, violence, and just general 'ewwness' applies. Now lets get this shit done!**

* * *

**Requiem **

**Chapter Eighteen**

"_**A Special Place in Hell"**_

There's a special place in Hell. For everyone. Dean knew this with certainty. No one was exempt. No one had a 'Get out of Hell Free' card. It was the way it was. It was just a matter of degree. You could talk semantics with him until you were blue in the face, but a history of violence, both witnessed and survived, had reinforced his belief. Innocence was fleeting. Justice, nothing more than a word.

He had seen death in all its forms, but watching Riley fly backwards under the force of the shot, he could do nothing but stare as chaos erupted around him. Bobby got to her first, throwing the skeletal man from her and checking for a pulse. Virginia's howls ripped through the glade as she fell to her knees next to her daughter. The ground began to shake violently. Thunder boomed, its angry growl roaring across turbulent skies; the air was charged with electricity as lightning speared towards the earth, exploding tree after tree.

The force of the ground shaking beneath them threw Virginia away from Riley. She scrambled after her daughter, screaming her name. Dean could do nothing but stare as Riley's body tumbled limply across the grass. Riley was dead. And his brother had been the one who had killed her. He couldn't process it. He shook his head, refusing to accept it. But when Sybil pushed her foot down on Riley's back, laughing as she pushed Riley's lifeless body into the dirt, his hands clenched, a red fog descending. When Sybil dipped her toe into Riley's blood like she was dipping it into a pool, Dean snapped.

His roar started slowly, building from the pit of his stomach and raging through him before it erupted as he did. "DIES IRAE!" Dean roared. "DIES NEX!" He pushed Dee roughly aside and stepped towards Sybil, "Talio est mei!" He glared at Sybil, "_**Mei! MEI!"**_

"Mine?" Sybil laughed. "She was _never _yours! She has _always _been _mine!" _

"That's where you're wrong, bitch," Dean growled, pulling collar aside. _**"Mine."**_

"You think a couple of bruises will stop me from taking my rightful place?" Sybil's caustic laugh grazed over Dean. Swirling her toes in the blood pooled on the ground. "Your _whore's _blood seals my fate!"

"Dean…" Bobby rose from the ground, "Dean, son…we got a problem," he said quietly, moving beside the boy. "Look at the bitch, Dean. _Look _at her."

Dean fought the river of rage that was coursing through him, focussing on Sybil. He could see her. _Really _see her. Where before he could see the outlines of the trees through her, where her nebulous existence cast no shadow; now he could see the life slowly winding up from her toes and spreading through her. It gave her substance. It gave her life. _Riley's _life.

"She's _here, _Dean," Bobby intoned quietly. "Riley's blood was all she needed to walk the earth! What the hell was your brother thinking?"

"This wasn't Sam," Dean replied. "This was Riley." His gaze flicked to Riley, face down in the dirt, unmoving. "I'm gonna tear the bitch apart," Dean menaced his gaze moving to a joyously smiling Sybil. "You hear me bitch! I'm gonna tear you apart!"

Sybil's laugh echoed the thunder that crashed around the clearing. "You and whose army, _boy!" _she hissed, pointing to Dean's right.

Turning as if in slow motion, Bobby cursed under his breath, Dean cursing out loud. Dee was standing in front of her own army. One that continued to crawl out of the deep cracks that rented the ground, joining their rotting comrades in regimented lines behind their leader. A leader whose eyes held nothing but madness, and whose sneer was filled with hateful vengeance.

"Dee," Dean said with authority. "Stand down."

"Stand down?" Dee's laugh was as chilling as Sybil's. "Stand down?" Her eyes narrowed. "Who are _you _to give _me _orders, Winchester?" Piquing an eyebrow, a cold smile snaked across Dee's lips. "Very clever little ploy you had there, old son. But did you really think it would work?" She laughed. "You Winchesters, always thinking you have the answer to everything.' Shaking her head derisively, she chuckled. "Not this time, sunshine."

"You think your little undead following's gonna stop us?" Dean laughed nastily, "You really _are _a nutter, aintchya?"

"That's it, boy," Bobby muttered. "Piss off the woman with the walking dead at her back."

Dee's eyes flicked to Bobby. "Murderer." She spat on the ground. "The great Robert Singer is nothing more than a common murderer! First your _wife! _Then my _mother!" _Dee smiled. It was a smile that screamed madness. "Not to worry, old son. I've a special get-together planned for you." Her hands clenched, her shoulders shaking in fury. "I warned you Riley wasn't the one you should be worried about."

"My perfect little soldier," Sybil declared smugly, sashaying past a sobbing Ginny, coating her feet in Riley's blood. "Always staying loyal to your _real _mother," she crooned, "the one that gave you _true _life."

The smile that rose to Dee's lips chilled Dean. He thought he'd played her perfectly, but _she'd _played him. He cursed himself, ignoring the deep cracks that split the ground, ignoring the hands, the bodies that continued to crawl out of the earth. "You think you can win, Dee?" He shook his head, calling her bluff. "You think we don't have a plan?" He laughed.

"Aaah, nope!" She grinned. "Here's the thing," she cocked her head. "I _know _you, Winchester. Planning just _ain't _your thing! You fumble through it and hope for the best, dragging your sorry-arsed brother along for the ride," her laugh was pure madness. "_You _killed Riley, and you killed _Sammy, _too. You think he's gonna survive this?" She grinned again. "Nope!" The smile fell from her lips. "I'm going to slice him open like a pig. I'll keep him alive for it too. You've _seen _the pain of a disembowelling, you _know _it doesn't kill you straight away… they _linger…_trying to push their insides back… _inside…"_

"I'm gonna rip your heart out through your spine, _bitch!" _Dean could feel the blood bubbling through him, an insurmountable rage that fed the hate that had always festered inside him. He growled, turning the self-loathing outwards, turning it into his weapon. "_Traitor!" _he hissed, noting how Dee flinched at the word. "_Coward!"_

"Dean!" Ginny yelled. Dean snapped his head to his left. "Where is she?" Ginny shrieked, frantically shoving corpses out of her way as she searched for Cin.

"Lost her have you, Dean?" Sybil laughed.

"Dean!" Ginny yelled again, before disappearing into the army of corpses. She pushed past a decaying man, weaving between the undead as she searched desperately for her daughter. "I can't find her! I can't find her!"

Dean grabbed Bobby. "You keep that bitch occupied…"

"Occupied?"

"Yeah, _occupied. _I need to find Riley, she's the key to this, " he whispered. "And do something about that army Dee's got at her back."

"Anything else?" Bobby asked. "Cup of java? Some cake?"

Dean had Bobby's face pulled to his. "If that bitch can pull souls out of the pit, so can we," he growled. "Requiem, Bobby. Use your fucking head." He pushed Bobby from him. "You buy me some time or I swear…" he pushed Bobby towards Sybil and went after Ginny.

"Soooo," Bobby rocked back and forth on his heels in front of Sybil. "I see dead people."

"Bobby!" Dean yelled, stopping in his tracks.

"Well I do, Dean," Bobby smiled. "There. There. There. There…" he pointed at the steadily growing army. "Whole heap of 'em." He nodded to Dean, "Go, son." He turned back to Sybil as Dean disappeared. "Got a message for you from a friend." He started to unbuckle his belt. "Jack Riley, remember him?" He nodded at Sybil's hiss. "Ayuh, thought so. He said to tell you…we _are _the masters of our own destiny," he undid the button on his jeans, smiling when he saw Sybil flinch. "Jack Riley said kiss his _ass!"_

"How _dare _you!" Sybil roared, the ground shaking in consort with her fury.

"How dare I?" Bobby laughed, undoing his zipper. He turned, dropped his pants and mooned Sybil. "You can kiss my ass, too, bitch!"

"INFIDEL!" Sybil hissed, her body shaking in fury. Her power was almost absolute and this…this… _pissant _was not cowering as he should be. _None _of them were. "You will _pay _for your disrespect!"

"Bite me," Bobby laughed, doing up his pants. He raised an eyebrow. "Missing someone?" he pointed.

Dee was gone.

**_SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN_**

Dean swore when he heard Bobby yell that Dee had gone AWOL "Great," he muttered, sidestepping another shuffling body. He stopped when he saw the ground slipt apart in front of him, took a step back when he saw hands appear at the edge and begin to pull themselves out of the pit. The bastards were coming from everywhere. Bobby had to get his ass in gear if they… he looked around, watching as the men and women began to stand on his side. This was _their _army. _How the hell had Bobby done it? _He hadn't heard anything. He shook his head. He couldn't deal with that now, he had to find Riley's body. Something wasn't right with this. Sam had killed Riley. _Why? _Why would Sam kill Riley? He put his hand to his nose as he pushed through the stink of bodies forming _their _army. He shouldn't have left Riley, he shouldn't… He stopped as the cold steel of a blade was pressed expertly against his throat. _Shit! _He cursed himself. _Never leave your back…_

"You trust me, baby?" Riley's breath was warm against his ear. He smiled. She was alive. "Answer carefully."

Dean closed his eyes. Trust. That was a big ask for him. This wasn't a question that required a flippant answer, the giving of trust without forethought. This was life and death trust. He opened himself up to it. Riley would never hurt him. The pain in his bitten neck pulsed with the truth of it. He moved his hand behind him and rested it on Riley's hip. "I trust you." He didn't whisper it, he didn't shy away from it, he said it loud and strong, he said it because he meant it. "I trust you, baby." He took a breath and squeezed her hip. "Make it quick."

He didn't think it would hurt as much as it did, and it hurt coming out of his heart more than it did going in. Riley lowered him gently to the ground, the undead stepping past them, shielding them. He smiled when she put a hand to his face. "Strip poker," he whispered.

"We've got work to do first," she smiled softly. "Let go. Go on, Dean, I got you."

He closed his eyes. _"Riley…" _Her name pushed out on his last breath.

Dean opened his eyes. Riley was smiling down at him. "Hi."

"Hi," he smiled, looking around. "I'm… dead?"

"We both are… well, more… in between."

"Riley," Dean sat up, putting his fingers to the hole in his chest. "Simple words, and fast."

"We opened a door that let Sybil through…"

"Lilith. Yeah, I know. So did Jack." He got up, pulling Riley to her feet. "You're okay? Apart from the being dead bit?"

"Yeah, baby, I'm good… apart from the being dead bit."

Dean glanced at the corpses surrounding them. "Shit, this is going to be messy." He turned back to Riley. "Powerful ground, I get it."

"_We _let her through, you and me. She was … kinda bound to us…"

"It's more than that. You… _Jesus…_cliff notes. Don't interrupt. Your Mom knew Dee's Mom. They tried to use mojo to get Jack to get your Mom pregnant, mojo didn't work but here you are anyway. Izzy, that's Dee's Mom, was gonna rip you right outta your Mom, but Bobby stopped her – he killed Izzy. Dee saw it. So Bobby stole Dee and got her back to her grandparents. Your Dad and Bobby knew each other too. And all this is happening because Dee's supposed to be sacrificed to Sybil to bring her through to …you know, do what demons do – try and rule the world. Got it?"

Riley slapped him upside the head.

"_Ow!_" Dean rubbed his scalp. "What the hell was _that _for?"

"'_But here you are anyway?'"_

_"That's _what you focus on?"

"You don't tell someone something like that in _cliff notes, _Dean."

"Look _around _you, Riley." A man turned his head towards Dean - skin sloughed from his cheeks, mottled holes broke through the greasy film on his forehead. Dean turned back ot Riley. "Okay, so don't look too closely." He nodded to her. "Tell me."

"I'm the sacrifice, not Dee. You and I gave her access, and she needs blood to _literally _walk the earth. That's you or me – she was keeping you for fun. Yes, Winchester, that kind of fun. And she's not a demon, she's a deity…"

"Are you saying we're screwed?" He shook his head. "No goddamn way, Riley."

"_No, _different rules apply. Here are _your _cliff notes. We're _lifelines. _One of us dies to bring her into being – her first steps into the realm must be taken in blood."

Dean nodded, his heart pounding with anger at the memory of Sybil swirling her toes in Riley's blood. "So you told Sammy to shoot you."

"I begged him. Cut him some slack, Dean. He knew it was the only way. He also knew that you'd be kept alive because you keep _her _alive. We'd never have been able to beat the bitch otherwise. All Sam did was give us a chance."

"Sammy knew you were going to kill me?"

Riley nodded. "_Trust, _Dean. We've all let go of it. None of us trusted our instincts, and none of us trusted each other to tell the truth. That bitch helped, don't you doubt it. But I trusted Sam to do this, and he trusted me to do…that," she pointed to his heart. "So did you. So now we've got a chance to nail the bitch."

"We're _dead, _Riley."

"So are they," she motioned around her. "Which means they can't _kill _us. You seeing an advantage here? _Ow!" _She rubbed her head. "Uncalled for."

"If you two are finished?"

Dean and Riley turned. Bobby was staring at them with exasperation. "Yes, boy, I can see you both." He looked at Riley. "You're _third _on my list for an ass kicking."

"It's powerful ground we're standing on Bobby," Riley snapped. "That bitch isn't the only one who can tap into it."

Sam came through a gap in the living-dead. "Whoa…" he looked at Riley. "It worked."

"Yeah, thanks for sanctioning my death, dude," Dean retorted. "Heads up woulda been nice."

"Don't start, Dean. I just had to kill your girlfriend."

"She's/I'm not my/his girlfriend," Dean and Riley said in unison.

"She's/I'm not," they replied.

"_Ooo_kay." Sam glanced at Bobby. "So we've got an army of the living dead, a couple of ringers," he motioned to Dean and Riley. "And no Dee."

"You _lost _her?" Dean asked.

"In a mass of _dead _people, Dean!"

"Enough," Bobby raised his hands. "I'm guessing you two are running on a short time clock, yes?"

"Kinda," Riley nodded.

"Kinda? What the hell do you mean _kinda?" _Dean asked.

"You're gonna start… you know…" Sam motioned with his head to one of corpses next to him.

Dean turned to Riley. She raised her hands. "I was going to tell you."

"When? When my _arm _fell off?" He pointed to the one-armed corpse hear him.

"A _shark _got it, man."

Dean jumped, "Jesus Christ!"

"Oh, yeah. They talk and stuff. Fresh is best, right?" She smiled.

"So how do we kill the bitch?" Sam asked.

"You four do," Bobby replied. "All four of you have to deliver a fatal blow."

"Old man," Dean said patiently. "There are only three of us."

"Dee too," Riley stated. "Where's Mum? And _how _on earth is she here?"

"Long story," Dean answered.

"Riley," Sam started. "With you and Dean both… kinda dead, where's that leave Sybil?"

"Vulnerable. We can kill the bitch now. She hasn't got Dean as a safety-net anymore. Remember when I told you I could hear Jack?" Sam nodded. "I've been hearing _him _this time, not some impostor. _Him."_

"Me too," Dean said quietly. "No, not Jack. Mom."

"You heard Mom?" Sam asked incredulously.

"I… just let it go, Sam." He looked at Riley. "You've got the dagger Jack gave you, but we've got _nothing, _Riley. The rifle isn't going to do it, and it's not like we can pass your dagger around and all have a stab at the bitch."

"And we can't fucking stand around _chatting, _either!" Bobby angered. He turned to Dean. "Take control of your army, son. The sooner we get done with this the better."

"You need to speak with your mother," the voice that sounded to Riley's left was the one-armed corpse.

Dean frowned. "What was that, Shark-boy?"

"I can go right back into the pit, asshole!" Shark-boy spat.

"Don't piss off the undead," Riley admonished. "What's my Mum got to do with this?"

"Find her and she'll tell you."

Riley nodded. "Okay, then. Dean…do you army thing, I'll find Mum. Sam… wanna fire a round into Sybil and see what happens?"

Sam grinned. "Hell yeah."

"Bobby," Dean turned to the man. "Find Dee."

"Don't kill her, Bobby," Riley ordered. "I mean it. You do that, I'll kill you, understand? _Understand?"_

"She's not on our side!" Bobby yelled. "Don't you _get _it?"

"You don't know shit, Bobby," Riley said through gritted teeth. "And you don't know _Dee."_ She turned, "Shark-boy, you're with me."

"My name's _Mark," _he bristled.

"I like Shark-boy better. Come on," she slipped through the wall of the undead, stopping when she felt a hand on her arm. "Dean…"

"I know what you said to Bobby about Dee, but if it comes down to it…I mean between you and her… you _take _her out."

Riley nodded slowly. "I'm the only one allowed. You make Sam and Bobby understand that. It's _my _job, no one elses." He nodded. Riley put a hand to his cheek. "I was worried too." She kissed him softly. "Now go kick some undead arse, you know how it turns me on," she grinned.

"Fortheloveofgod…" Shark-boy groaned. "I don't like _being _up here. My stump hurts."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Riley rolled her eyes. "Come on then."

"Riley…"

She turned back. "Me too, Dean."

Dean watched her disappear again, the wall of corpses closing behind her. "What?" he said to a middle-aged man with a knife jutting out of his chest.

"You think we can get on with this?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Mind if I borrow this?" He pulled the blade out.

"Owwwww!"

"It hurts?"

"No," he rolled his eyes… and one fell out of its socket.

"That'll teach ya," Dean laughed softly. "I'll return it later."

"Consider it a gift." the man's voiced dripped sarcasm. "It _hurts, _remember?" He pointed to Dean's chest with one finger, whilst trying to pop the eyeball back in with his other hand. "On your way."

Dean shook his head as he walked through his army, "A zombie army, how cool is this?" He spun the blade in his hand, laughing at the mutterings of those around him. "A zombie army with attitude, even better."

**_SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN_**

Sybil was standing in the midst of her army, keeping the corpses close, using them as a shield. She'd felt the one called Dean's death, had felt the essence of his life-force flow into her. It was a double-edged sword. Her power, now, was absolute. But it also meant she could be killed. She'd gambled her life, _everything, _on this one moment. She'd sacrificed immortality for her chance at dominion. Only she hadn't thought it was a gamble. The risks she'd taken had been calculated. She'd torn away these _human's _trust of each other, she'd played them against one another, worked mistrust and betrayal to her advantage. She'd used the voices of the one's they loved to manipulate them to her advantage… _what had gone wrong? _She shook her head in vigorous denial. _No. _There was no way they'd have figured out what she'd done, no way they could know the power each one of them held. And it didn't matter if they did. It was the _four _of them – if only _one _of them wasn't on side, then they were powerless to kill her. Sybil smiled. She still had her 'one'. The one promised to her by her most devoted follower. _Dee. _Dee would ensure the death of Sam and the one called Riley. Dean she would resurrect, she would make _sure _her dominion was absolute. Until the others were dead, she had to keep safe. She had to remain unharmed. Besides, she smiled to herself, there was no way they would _know _how to kill her, and with Dee on her side, there was no way they could.

She closed her eyes, Dee was right where she was supposed to be. Hunting the ones that wanted to banish her to the abyss. "Good," she laughed softly, the feel of the earth firm beneath her feet bringing a lust for power she would _not _give up. She would take her rightful place as Queen of all the worlds. She would be as she once was. All powerful. Worshipped above all else.

She raised her arms to the heavens. "DIES IRAE!

**_SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN_**

Sam was in the treeline on a raised hillock. He nestled the rifle against his shoulder. His stomach wasn't somersaulting like the last time, and there was no fear guiding his actions. This shot was guided by anger and hate. It steadied his trigger-finger.

He scanned the crowd of undead in which Sybil was hiding. He smiled to himself. The bitch knew Dean was dead and was covering her ass. He moved the cross-hairs from head to head, smiling again when he noticed a denser group towards the left of Sybil's army. "You're in there, bitch," he whispered. "Give me something… come on… come on…."

He smiled again as two hands stretched to the heavens, Sybil's voice booming over the glade.

"Gotchya."

He fired. His grin at Sybil's shriek as her hand exploded in a spray of blood and bone was short lived.

"Put my baby, down, Sammy," Dee hissed, her dagger held to the side of Sam's neck. "One quick flick of my wrist and it's all over. But I'd rather do this in front of your brother."

She kicked the rifle away from Sam. "Upsy daisy, now."

**_SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN_**

"This way," Shark-boy motioned with his only hand.

"Did you die straight away?" Riley asked as she followed the man through the trees.

"Bled out on the beach. Why?"

"Just curious? Hurt much?"

He stopped and turned to her. "Yeah. It hurt like a sonofabitch and I screamed like a girl. Pissed myself too. Anything else?"

"Nope. That should just about do it." She clapped him on the shoulder. "Lead on, McDuff!"

"Does your boyfriend…"

"He's not my boyfriend," Riley stated. "We just…"

"I don't want to hear it. I haven't been laid in… what year is it?"

"2009."

"Shit. I haven't been laid in two years." He ducked under a branch. "Keep up."

"I've got a sore knee, a bullet hole in my chest…"

"I have _one _arm, and I've been dead a lot longer than _you_. I win. Now stop your bitching and keep _up!"_

Riley mumbled under her breath as she followed the walking-corpse through the forest. She turned her head sharply when she heard Sybil yell, smiling when she saw her Sybil's hand explode in gore. "Awesome."

"You've just pissed her off. You're not anywhere near finished." He pointed. "Through there."

"You're not coming?"

"No. I've gotta get back and kick your boyfriends ass."

"He's not my boyfriend!" Riley yelled at this back. "Shit." She held her dagger tight in her hand as she pushed through the undergrowth. "Mum?"

Ginny was on the ground, a duffel bag at her side. But it was the bowl, the photos of her, Dean, Sam and Dee smoking inside and the blood that dripped from Ginny's hand over the photos, which held Riley's attention. "Mum," she crouched, "what are you doing?"

Ginny's eyes opened, and Riley flinched. They were completely white. But it was the tears of blood which began to seep from the corner's of Ginny's eyes that had Riley's heart racing.

"Saving you." The voice that scratched from her mother's throat wasn't the one Riley knew. It was gravely, as though it was fighting its way through dirt.

"Mum…"

"Take it." Ginny motioned to the duffel bag. "Stop this once and for all."

"Mum…just…"

"_TAKE IT!"_

Riley grabbed the bag. She pushed it open. Swords. Machetes. Daggers. Jack's gear. "_How _Mum?"

Riley gasped as her mother's hand shot out, grabbing her by the scruff of the neck and dragging her face to hers. "_I'm not your fucking mother! __**You **__are the reason this is happening. I should have killed you when I had the chance!" _She shoved Riley from her. _"If Dee dies so does your mother!"_ The smile that rose to Ginny's lips didn't belong to her mother. _"And everyone you love."_

Riley took Jack's favourite sword from the duffel bag and slipped it over her back. She picked up the bag and slung it over her shoulder then pulled the sword from its scabbard. She put the blade to the neck of the woman kneeling before her. "You kill my mother, I'll hack you into teeny-tiny pieces," she inched the sword forward. "You go near Dean or Sam, I'll kill Dee out of spite. Don't think I won't."

"_Just like your father!" _

"Damn straight," Riley hissed. She flicked the blade, cutting her mother's skin. "Just so we're clear." She lifted the woman's chin with her blade. "I know you're in there Mum. Just… come back." She turned and pushed back through the scrub. Began to run when she heard Dean barking orders. "Day of days," she muttered, picking up her pace.

**_To be continued… seriously…_**


	20. Hallelujah

**_A/N: Yay! We're finally here! It's FINALE TIME! Can I get a woot? Yep, it took a bloody long time to get here and I appreciate everyone's patience, I really do. Now get yourselves comfortable, it's a long'un, but I hope well worth the wait. :-) _**

**_The usual warnings for swearing, adult content and general nastiness... and some ewwwwness as well. What? Like this is any different from my other chapters?_**

**_Disclaimer: *sigh* Supernatural and everything that comes with the awesomenessesssesss of the show does not belong to me (no matter how many people I tell otherwise) but the characters of Riley, Dee and Ginny are the product of my warped mind, no one elses. And no matter how much they bitch about it (and they're surprisingly vocal, I gotta say) they had a blast with this story. As did I!_**

**_One last thing, the lyrics scattered throughout this story are from the amazingly talented Leonard Cohen - 'Hallelujah'. _**

**_.com/watch?v=P_NpxTWbovE_**

* * *

**Requiem.**

**Chapter Twenty.**

'**Hallelujah'**

_Now I've heard there was a secret chord_

_That David played and it pleased the Lord_

_But you don't really care for music, do you?_

_It goes like this_

_The fourth, the fifth_

_The minor fall, the major lift_

_The baffled King composing Hallelujah..._

Dean walked the haphazard lines of his army wondering if his sense of smell had died with him, or that he… he stopped. "I'm not breathing."

"No kidding, genius. You're dead."

"Shark-boy." He turned, frowned, when he saw the corpse was alone. "Where's Riley?"

"Your girlfriend's—"

"She's _not _my girlfriend. Now where the hell is she?" An enormous man with hands the size of dinner plates shuffled past Dean and headed toward the front of the line. "You! Man-mountain!" The giant turned, and Dean tried not to flinch. The man's throat was a mangled mess. "Aaah, you think when the shit hits the fan you can clear a path to the mega-bitch for me? Just nod." Dean motioned to the man's throat – the giant wore his windpipe as a tie. The man's eyes narrowed and he nodded. "Good stuff. Hang here with me and Shark-boy."

"My _name _is Mark."

"Shark-boy it is!" Dean grinned.

"Fine! How's tricks, _Dipshit?"_

"Good. Got me _two _arms," Dean retorted. He scanned the army positioned behind him. There had to be at least a hundred corpses in various states of decay. He turned to the living dead assembled on the other side of the glen; Sybil probably had them on numbers and the lines of her army were regimented. He turned back to his army – slipshod and irregular groupings. Just how he liked it. "Shark-boy, how do we make sure they stay down?"

"Well, _Dipshit, _I'm guessing ripping their limbs from their bodies or taking their heads off would be the way to go. Whaddya think?"

"I think you're about this far away from an ass kicking." Dean held his fingers _really _close together.

"You don't have many friends, do you?"

"I've got more friends than you have arms," Dean muttered as he scanned the mass of undead. "Where the hell are you, Sammy?" he said quietly. He'd seen the shot that had destroyed Sybil's hand. Sam should be back by now. He turned to Shark-boy. "Can you tap into some zombie mojo and find my brother?" Shark-boy just stared. "That's a no then."

"Look, Dipshit, I hate to be the one to tell you this… well, actually I don't, but… if your brother's not here then he's over there." Shark-boy pointed to Sybil's army. "And not because he's changed sides."

"You think this is funny?"

"Am I laughing?" Shark-boy sighed. "Listen, none of us want to be up here. Fresh air doesn't do us any good. So stop your bitching, stop your whining, and lets get this shit done."

"When this is over, I am _so_ kicking your ass," Dean said as he scanned the opposite ranks looking for Sam. "Shark-boy, Man-mountain, you're with me." He turned and looked over the mass of corpses that made up his army. "Listen up!" He waited until all eyes, or eye, turned to him. "It's pretty simple!" He raised his arm. "Left flank!" He moved to the other side of the army. "Right flank!" Dean returned to the middle. "Straight and fast! Right and left flanks go wide and circle in!" He scanned the silent corpses. "You got it?" He waited. "Just nod!"

"They understand," Shark-boy said quietly. "They just don't like you."

"What's not to like? I'm charming _and _good looking." Dean grinned. "All right, lets go piss the bitch off some."

_Your faith was strong but you needed proof_

_You saw her bathing on the roof_

_Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you_

_She tied you to a kitchen chair_

_She broke your throne and cut your hair_

_And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah_

"You don't need to do this, Dee." Sam's voice was calm. It didn't betray the icy fear coursing through his veins. Hands tied behind his back, on his knees in the dirt and surrounded by the stink of corpses, he had no goddamn idea how he was going to get out of this. He just knew he would. He winced when Dee pushed the barrel of her pistol against his skull.

"See that's where you're wrong, Winchester." Dee crouched beside him. "I'm not doing this because I _need_ to, not because I _want_ to either." She smiled at him. "I'm doing this to set things _right._"

"You think killing me, Dean and Riley is going to-"

Dee slapped him. "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," she shook her head. "I'm not going to kill Dean." She smiled again, only this time, it didn't light her eyes. "You are."

_Baby I've been here before_

_I know this room, I've walked this floor_

_I used to live alone before I knew you_

_I've seen your flag on the marble arch_

_Our love is not a victory march_

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

Bobby pushed through the swaying corpses to Dean's side. "Can't find either of them."

"We both know where they are," Dean replied, not looking at Bobby.

"Dean—"

"Don't."

"Okay, son," he patted Dean's shoulder gently. "Where's Riley?"

Dean ignored Bobby and stepped forward, his dagger held, out of sight, at his side. "Show yourself, bitch!" He waited. "We gonna do this or what?" He saw movement in the ranks and tightened his grip on the blade. "Dee."

"Howdy, Winchester." Blood seeped from her wounded left shoulder. "Lose someone?" She looked around her. "Two someones?"

Dean turned to Bobby. "Okay, that'll do me for chit-chat."

"Ah, ah, ah," Dee smiled. "Got a proposition for you, old son. Might want to hear me out seeing as you have no weapons."

Bobby stepped beside Dean. "You see what she has on her back?"

"I'm not blind," Dean returned the whisper.

"Well how'd she get swords, Dean?"

"They were a gift from my mother," Dee sneered.

"Your master, you mean," Dean smiled. "Tell it like it is, Dee. She's the master and you're her puppet."

Dee shrugged. "It is what it is."

"Speaking of mother's. What's Isobel got to say about all this?" Dean returned the smile.

"I know one thing she'd be saying," Bobby said, his smile matching Dean's. "Same thing she said to me on her last breath." He paused, watching the anger, the hate simmer behind Dee's eyes. "See. You. In. Hell!"

As Dee reached for the sword at her back, Dean flicked his wrist. The blade flew straight and true, lodging in Dee's right shoulder.

"Left flank!" Dean yelled.

His army didn't shuffle or stumble forward but moved as one.

"Right flank!"

The sea of corpses flowed forward.

"Hold!" Dean yelled to those behind him as the army at Dee's back surged. "Hold!"

"For _what?" _Bobby yelled at Dean, his dagger held firm.

Dean grinned. "That." He pointed.

Riley came through the trees at a run. Swords over her back she held a duffel bag in one hand, another sword in the other. "Dean!" She tossed him the sword and drew one from her back. She dropped the bag at Bobby's feet and smiled at Dean. "Can't stay, baby." She kissed him, hard. "Stay safe." She took off.

"Riley!"

"Me too!" She yelled over her shoulder and drew her other sword and hacked into the corpses as she disappeared into their ranks.

Dean grabbed a short sword and looked at Man-Mountain who was holding a machete and grinning. "Clear a path."

_There was a time you let me know_

_What's really going on below_

_But now you never show it to me, do you?_

_And remember when I moved in you_

_The holy dove was moving too_

_And every breath we drew was Hallelujah_

Riley knew she wasn't invincible. Being dead meant she couldn't be 'killed' but any injuries she sustained during this battle would stay with her when she was brought back to life. She had to be careful. She had to go into this believing she _was _alive and she had to have faith. Faith in herself and faith in Dean. She knew they were responsible for this. This was their mess and it was time to clean house.

She ducked a clumsy swipe from a decaying priest and hacked his leg off at the knee, decapitating him on his way down. She grunted as she was struck across the back of the head. She drove her sword behind her as stinking, putrefied arms encircled her.

"Duck!"

Riley dropped her head forward, shuddering as a head bounced off he shoulder and landed at her feet. She kicked it away and shrugged out of the disgusting hug.

She turned and nodded. "I owe you."

"Get me back underground and we're square," Shark-boy replied, skewering a fat man as another tore the motled head from the attacker's shoulders.

"Follow me!" She ducked and weaved through the mass of corpses, taking out as many as she could. Shark-boy stayed at her side, only hacking at those that came at Riley. _Not bad for a one-armed man. _

"She won't show herself!" Shark-boy yelled. "Not 'til you're all weakened!"

Riley shook off a small girl grabbing at her leg. "The bitch is using children?" Her anger at Sybil surged. "And I'm not going after Her!"

"Oh no," Shark-boy shook his head.

"Not her either!" Riley ducked another blow, her blade slicing the woman in half. "Get up from _that _bitch!" Riley stared. "Crap, she's trying. Come on!"

"You're a pain in the ass!" Shark-boy yelled as he followed her.

_Maybe there's a God above_

_But all I've ever learnt from love_

_Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya_

_It's not a cry that you hear at night_

_It's not someone who's seen the light_

_It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_

Dee pulled the dagger from her shoulder and stared at it in confusion. She raised her eyes to the man who'd done it. He was grinning at her as he armed himself. It stirred a deep swell of hatred inside her. _He _was the one who'd started all this. _He _was the one who'd taken that loved voice from her. _He _was the one who would pay. She tightened her grip on the dagger coated in her blood and reached for the sword she knew was at her back. She ignored the pain that screamed at her to stop, the pain that was echoed by a voice.

She pointed her blade at the man. "You!" She yelled at the man as he ran at her. "You're _mine!" _She knew the prisoner she had protected in the middle of her army was leverage she could use against him. And use him she would.

She smiled as she led the charge of her army, embracing the dark pit inside her. Whoever this arsehole was, he'd pay for—

She stopped suddenly, the masses rushing past her. She cocked her head. A frown creased her brow. She nodded slowly. "Okay," she whispered. "If that's what you want."

Dee turned on her heel and headed back into her army. It was time to for them _all _to pay and she knew just how to do it.

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_

Dean harnessed the pulsing hate coursing through him and channelled it outwards. Body after body fell to his blades as he moved through the crush searching for Dee. The Man-Mountain stayed at his shoulder, hacking and slicing expertly. He had no idea where Shark-boy had disappeared to but it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was killing Dee and finding Sammy. Sammy and Riley.

"Where'd the bitch go?" He rolled his eyes at Man-Mountain's shrug and caught Bobby's eye.

"Find her and use her as bait, Dean!" Bobby yelled as he decapitated a rotting man. "I'll get Sam! Go, boy! Sybil will come when you do! Go!"

Dean nodded and changed direction, Man-Mountain keeping pace with him. He felt a breeze rush over his arm and looked down. He'd been cut. It didn't hurt but it shouldn't. Yet. He knew when he was brought back to the land of the living it'd hurt like a sonofabitch.

"This way!" He chopped and hacked his way through, the memory of his battle with Lilith coming back to him.

Lilith. It had all started with Lilith. Sybil had used him and Riley. She'd known they'd kill Lilith, known that when demon, angel and human connected she could slip, unnoticed, into this realm. Thing was, she _hadn't _come through unnoticed. Someone _had _known, and he was on their side.

He stopped suddenly, instinctively driving his sword behind him and skewering his attacker. "Fuck!" His blade was caught between the corpse's ribs. "Man-Mountain!" The giant turned, ripping the head off a naval officer and dropping it to the ground. "Find Riley! She's—"

Man-mountain nodded and pointed as he kicked a woman in the chest, his foot getting stuck. He shook her off, crunching her head as he stepped past. Dean tried not to wince as he followed the man. _Jesus, _the dude was a walking wrecking ball. Dean hacked at the man's scraps as he followed.

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_

Sam struggled against the cable ties. Blood ran down his hands, dripping from his fingertips and staining the dirt. "Come on, come on," he urged. He'd get out of these then go to work on the assholes surrounding him. He'd heard Dee's orders clearly. The undead guards weren't to hurt him. It was an order he knew they'd follow to the letter and _that _would be his advantage. Now if he could just get out of these fucking—

His hands fell to his sides as he was released. He turned, surprise dropping his mouth open.

"What did I tell you?"

"That…that…that…." Sam stammered as he was hauled to his feet.

"That I'd come when the battle _really_ began—"

"As long as I kept your secret I'd be immune."

"You did good, Sam." Jack clapped him on the shoulder.

"You're… Riley cremated you. You can't be here…"

"I'm not."

"Aah, geez. No more fucking riddles."

"Come on, Sam." Jack handed him a sword. "Sybil brought me here, she thinks I'm her soldier."

Sam stopped. "Are you?"

Jack laughed loudly. "You're a trip, Sam." He shook his head. "You think I didn't protect myself against this? Come on, son. Give me more credit than that."

Sam shook his head and went to follow Jack. "Wait, the rifle."

"Leave it."

"But—"

"Trust me."

Sam nodded. _Trust. _"Okay. Where we going?"

"Surprise."

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_

Riley ran at the wall of… she'd been avoiding the word no end but… zombies. There. She'd said it. Zombies. A wall of them, armed and blocking hers and Shark-boy's path, which meant only one thing. Sybil was behind it.

"You sure you've done the right thing?" Shark-boy asked.

Riley nodded. "As much as I hated doing it, I'm sure."

Shark-boy sighed and pointed to the undead blocking their path. "We can't kill them all."

"Don't need to kill any of them," said Riley.

"Yeah? They're armed up the yin-yang and we're outnumbered. So tell me how we're going to get through, genius?"

"Well we're standing here having a conversation and no one's attacking us, _genius."_ She looked over her shoulder at the body parts littering the field behind her. She cocked her head as she watched those left whole help those who weren't. She shook her head as realisation slammed into her and turned back to Shark-boy. "I'm sorry."

He gave her a small smile. "S'okay. You had to figure it out yourself."

"Riley!"

Riley smiled as Dean jumped corpses and ran over. "Hey."

"Hey," he smiled and looked at the wall of undead. "Last stand, baby." He grinned past her. "Hey Shark-boy, still got your one arm. Awesome."

"Bite me, Dipshit."

Riley looked at the giant standing beside Dean. "Who's your big fri…_damn,_" Riley pulled a face when the giant turned to her. "You get the guy who did that to you?" He nodded and gave her a ghastly smile. "Good…stuff."

Bobby ran over. "I can't find Sam. You two okay?"

"We're dead," Dean and Riley replied.

"Idjits."

"Sam'll be here," Riley said.

"And how do you know that?"

"Just do," Riley said. "Ready?" She motioned to the zombie-wall. Dean and Bobby raised their weapons as Riley resheathed her swords.

"Aah, Riley?" Dean asked.

"Trust me, baby."

Dean looked into her eyes and finally nodded. He resheathed his sword, staring hard at Bobby until he did the same. The minute Bobby put his machete away the zombie wall put their weapons down and stepped aside.

"How the _fuck _did you know?" Bobby asked incredulously.

"Shark-boy told me."

"Took you long enough to figure it out."

Riley nodded. "_'We don't want to be up here.' _" She looked at him. "_We."_

He nodded. "Your father said you were smart."

"He's okay?"

"He's fine, Riley. Promise. Now go." He passed her his sword. "You can end this. All of you. Trust each other and trust yourselves."

"You're not coming?" Dean asked.

Shark-boy shook his head. "Can't pass the line. All I could do was keep you safe until you made your own way here."

She smiled. "Thanks, Mark."

"Welcome." He smiled at her then turned to Dean. "You're still a dipshit."

"And you're still a pain in the ass." He shook Mark's hand. "Stay down."

"Always," he laughed and turned to Man-Mountain. "Come on, Dan. Time to hit the shitty road."

Dan nodded, handed Dean the machete and patted him on the shoulder before giving him the thumbs up.

"Thanks, dude. You're all right." He laughed when Man-Mountain nodded and grinned.

"So we about ready or you want start singing Kumbayah?"

"You I don't like," Mark said and pointed ahead of him. "On your way."

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_

Sybil stood behind the wall of undead, a smile on her face. They were just beyond the stinking corpses and there was no way they'd be able to pass without being killed. Even the 'dead' two. The injuries inflicted while 'in-between' would always be with them. She would raise the one called Dean from the dead and he would _truly _be hers. She would not think of the marks tainting his neck.

"Come," she called to her right. She smiled as her Promised One stepped from the treeline. She'd hidden, just as she'd been ordered. "Stand by my side."

Dee took her position at the left shoulder of her commander, standing at ease as she awaited her next mission.

"Whoever makes it through the barrier, kill them."

Dee nodded. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Let us see how well they fight against…." Sybil stopped. No. She shook her head as those charged with protecting her put down their weapons and stepped aside. This couldn't be!

"There's a hole in your defences, Ma'am."

"I can see!" Sybil shrieked. She shook as she stared at her enemy. Unarmed, they smiled at her. "Where is the other one!" Sybil hissed.

"Guarded. He remains a prisoner."

"Where!"

"Secured behind us," Dee replied, repeating the whisper in her ear. "He is at your mercy, Ma'am."

"I _have _no mercy," she spat. "Remember that."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Sybil's face contorted with fury as the three hunters sauntered forward. They showed no fear. There was no hesitancy to their step. They walked confident and proud from one battlefield to another. She calmed herself. This was one battle they would _not _win.

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah, Hallelujah_

"Man, does she look pissed," Dean whispered.

Bobby smiled. "Don't think she expected us to make it this far."

"Ain't over yet, old man," Dean replied. "How'd you figure it out, Riley?"

"Mark kept saying 'we' this, 'we' that. Not 'us' and 'them'. They didn't want to fight, none of them did. When we raised our weapons against them, they had no choice. The magic here isn't good or bad, it just _is. _Took a while to click but I had something else on my mind."

"Me?" Dean grinned.

"Sorry, babe. Someone else. He'll be joining us shortly."

"Sam?"

"No." Riley couldn't drag her gaze from Dee. Standing at ease beside Sybil, she was relaxed, blood seeping from both shoulders as she watched them all carefully. "No one touches Dee, understand?"

"Riley—"

"I'll kill you myself, Bobby," she interrupted. "Don't think I won't."

"Yeah, well we just may have another problem." He pointed as Ginny walked from the scrub and stood at Sybil's other shoulder.

"That's not my Mum," said Riley. "But you touch her and that killing thing happens. Got it?"

"Riley," Bobby said as patiently as he could. "They're on Sybil's side. See? I'm sorry, but they are."

"Bobby," Riley said just as patiently. "When are you going to realise things aren't always as they seem."

"You're quiet, Dean. Any thoughts?" Bobby asked.

"Nah, I'm just gonna roll with it." He smiled as they pulled to a stop before the three women. Well two women and one deity. "Hey. How's it hanging?" He grinned.

"Silence!" Sybil hissed.

"Bite me," Dean retorted.

"That's my job," said Riley. "Right, Deandra?" Dee winced as if she'd been hit. "Right?"

A hollow laugh grazed from Ginny. "You have no control over her. She belongs to _me."_

"I thought she belonged to the uber-bitch next to you." Dean pointed to Sybil. "What'd you tell her to call you?" Dean directed his question to Sybil. "Mother? Yeah, that's right." Dean sneered. "_Mother."_

"I am her mother!" Ginny yelled.

"Nope, I believe Sybil is, Izzy. She made that pretty damn clear. Her _true _mother if memory serves." He looked at Dee. "So who is it, Dee?"

Dee refused to answer.

"Enough!" Sybil put her hand on Dee's shoulder. "Patience. I will have them killed—"

"Already dead, bitch," Dean smiled. "Or did you forget?"

"You may be 'dead', Dean Winchester," Sybil smiled. "But I can bring you back whole. I can make you more than you have _ever _been."

"I think what she's trying to say, Deandra," said Riley, keeping her focus on Dee. "Is that you make a killing blow and when she brings us back, we'll die for real." She saw Dee's left eye twitch. "You'll be replaced by Dean while we sit in a pool of our own blood—"

"Daggers sticking out of our chests," Bobby continued, feeding Dee's memory of the day he'd killed her mother. "Bleeding and cursing—"

"See you in Hell," Dean finished. "See. You. In. Hell!" He drew his sword as Riley and Bobby did.

The ground rumbled beneath them as Sybil raised her arms. One hand, mangled from Sam's shot, hung limply from her wrist but it still held power. The earth opened in front of them. "_Dies Irae!"_

Dean watched in horror as those specially chosen to defend their mistress pulled themselves out of the bowels. His heart started racing as Jack pulled himself out of the pit and grinned. Dean looked to Riley; his anger rising as a tear slid down her cheek. "Easy, baby." He turned back and his heart stuttered. His father was standing beside Jack.

"Both of you, just…easy," said Bobby, but there was a tremor in his voice.

"One more," Riley whispered.

Dean knew who was coming. He tried to brace for it but watching his mother drag herself out of the earth almost broke him. He barely registered Riley's hand slipping into his, but as her fingers dug into his flesh, his hand closed over hers.

_It's not them. _Dean heard Riley in his head. _It's not them, right? Right?_

Dean's hand tightened on hers. _No, it's not them. _

_It's not them. They're shells. Only shells. _Riley's voice became stronger with each word. _Shells. Only shells._

_Only shells, _Dean repeated the whisper. _Only shells. _It was a little stronger this time. _Only shells._ Stronger. "Only shells." It was spoken clear and with conviction.

"Only shells," Riley repeated, her voice as unfaltering as Dean's. '_Trust each other and yourselves.' _That's what Shark-boy had said. The things masquerading as Jack, John and Mary were nothing but puppets. "You're only fucking shells!"

Jack smiled. "Sweetheart, it's me. Just listen, and—"

"Go fuck yourself," Riley snapped.

"Dean, honey," Mary stepped forward and stretched her hand to Dean, the dirt clearly visible under her fingernails. "Let go of her hand, Dean. Take mine, come on, honey, take—"

"No."

Tears spilled down Mary's cheeks. "Dean, don't you listen to her. She's poisoned you against me."

"No."

"You listen to your mother, son," said John stepping beside Mary. "You do as you're told."

Dean flicked his gaze to the man wearing his father's face. "No."

"Looks like it's stand-off time," said Bobby. He stepped in front of Dean and Riley but directed his attention to Sybil. "Not quite working out as you planned, huh?" He grinned. "Well ain't that a _bitch."_

"We shall see." Sybil smiled. "Kill them," she ordered.

John struck first, his sword flashing toward Bobby. Bobby deflected the blow and moved backwards, drawing John away from Dean and Riley.

Riley squeezed Dean's hand. "Nothing but shells." She kissed his hand and stepped over to Mary. She wouldn't let Dean raise his sword against the thing disguised as his mother. He'd never recover. "You and me," Riley smiled at the dirt-covered woman and drew her other sword. "Let's do this."

Mary raised her swords. The smile that fell to her lips was as dead as her eyes. "Let's." She struck hard and fast, the sound of their swords clashing joining those of Bobby's and John's.

"Guess that just leaves us then, old man," said Dean.

"Guess it does, _Dean." _He stayed relaxed. "I ever tell you what Riley said about you?"

"That I'm _awesome _in the sack?" Dean grinned. "All true." He dropped quickly to the ground, rolling and slicing up Jack's leg. "Damn, that's _gotta _hurt."

The thing called Jack roared and turned on Dean, striking hand over hand as he pushed Dean back toward the crack in the earth.

Sybil watched, bemused, as the three hunters battled their demons. While she had hoped Dean would fight his mother, Riley her father, it mattered little. Dean would survive, she'd given her orders, but having him watch his mother kill his mate would unravel the man. Should the one called Riley kill his mother, she smiled, it would break that bond once and for all.

Riley circled, moving Mary away from Dean's periphery."Bobby!"

"I'm a little busy!" Bobby yelled, blocking a strike from John and delivering one of his own.

"Mary wasn't a suburban wife and mother, right?" Riley blocked strike after strike. While she didn't want Dean to battle his mother, she couldn't let Dean see her hurt Mary either. _Fuck. _"Bobby!"

"She was a hunter!"

"Ta for that info!"

"Just fight, you silly bitch!"

"Bobby!" Dean yelled. "Call her that again and…oh crap…" Dean teetered on the edge of the abyss, the dirt starting to give way under his heels.

"Dean!" Riley yelled. She struck hard at Mary, forcing the woman onto the back foot. She blocked a strike and kicked Mary in the chest knocking her to the ground. She turned and ran.

"Come back here, bitch!"

Riley ignored Mary and jumped at Dean as she threw her sword at Jack, catching him in the thigh. She hit Dean with her shoulder and pushed him away from the pit. _Oh fuck, _she thought as the landed and slid over the edge.

"Riley!" Dean scrambled to his feet. "No!" He threw his sword on instinct and watched it tumble once, twice before spearing into his mother's chest.

Mary raised her eyes to his. "Dean…" Blood dribbled from her mouth and she took a step back then another and another. "You killed me," she whispered, dropping her sword before slumping to the ground.

Dean stared, unable to drag his gaze from the crumpled form of his mother. He'd killed his mother….

"Dean! Dean! For fuck's sake! DEAN!"

Dean raised his eyes.

"It's not her, Dean, I promise you. I promise you, son." He nodded. "_Trust, _me."

Sybil's laugh grazed over him. "Oh, but Dean it is your mother! Killed by your own hand!"

Sybil's words were all he needed. The bitch did nothing but lie. He ran over to Jack and dropped beside him, reaching down and grabbing Riley's arm. "Nice catch, Jack."

Riley was staring at Jack the same way he'd been staring at Mary. "Riley, Riley, look at me." She wouldn't, or couldn't drag her gaze from Jack's. "_Baby…" _She slowly turned her face to his. "Give me your other arm, come on, just like we did in Vermont. Remember?"

Riley nodded and swung her arm up. Dean grabbed her wrist and he and Jack hauled her back to solid ground.

"That was close," Jack smiled at her as she scrambled back on her arse, Dean putting his arm across her shoulders. "Easy, sweetheart. It's me."

"Well lookee here." They turned, Dee had her pistol trained on them, her sword in her other hand. "It was all a matter of waiting to see which one of you fucked up first." She cocked her head. "Eenie-meenie-minie… you _all _did," she grinned.

"Bobby," Dean whispered. He was lying face down, still, on the ground. John was gone.

"That was taking too fucking long," Dee smiled. "Hurried it along a little."

Jack pushed slowly to his feet. "It's over, Dee."

"Sit the fuck down, _Jack. _I don't know how you did it, but my…my…."

"Master?" Dean said, getting to his feet. "Your master ain't happy, is she Dee?"

Dee's eyes flicked to her right as Sybil and Ginny walked over before her gaze locked to Riley. She smiled and struck quickly, driving her sword into Jack's belly, turning it expertly.

"No!" Riley yelled as Jack dropped to his knees, his hands going to his gut. Riley caught him as he sagged back, trying to hold his insides inside. "No, no, no…"

"Riley," he smiled. "It doesn't hurt, sweetheart. It's…"

"Residual memories? Is that what you're looking for?" Dee asked. "Just like last time."

Jack returned the smile. "Nope. This has been more fun."

"Still has the same effect, though." Dee raised an eyebrow. "Still sending you back to Hell."

"Riley," Jack whispered.

Riley looked at him. "Dad…"

"It's all right, honey. Everything will be all right. I saved you."

She smiled and stroked his brow. "You always have, Dad."

"Awww, ain't that sweet," Dee chuckled.

"Shut your fucking mouth," Dean glared.

Jack smiled as blood dribbled from his mouth and he whispered something she didn't hear. Riley lowered her head to his lips. "I prepared for this," he rasped. "Knew… coming…" He coughed blood. "Love you, always love you."

Riley held him tight. "I got you, Dad," she whispered, "I love you, too." She kissed his forehead. "We got this. Promise." She could see the pain in his eyes. He'd lied, trying to protect her from the pain of his wound. "Let go now, Dad." He looked into her eyes and nodded. She lowered him to the ground when the light left his eyes.

Riley stood and glared at Dee.

"What's wrong, Dundee? _Daddy_ got your tongue?"

Dean made a move and Dee raised her sword. "You want some of the same, Winchester? No?" She laughed. "It's over."

Riley stood beside Dean, forcing a calm to every part of her. She had a job to do. She'd promised her Dad. "It's not over, Dee. Not by a fucking long shot." She smiled. "The irony of that's gonna hit like—" Dee flew backwards, the shot echoing seconds later. "Like a gunshot." Riley looked at Sybil. "Bet that wasn't in your plans."

Sybil smiled. "You think a bullet will stop her?" She turned to Dee's body. "Rise."

Dee sat up suddenly. Blood flowed from the bullet wound over her heart. She looked at it, touched it then stared at her bloodied fingers.

"Nice shot, Sammy!" Dean grinned.

"Wasn't me." Dean turned as Sam walked over, dragging Sybil's lapdog, 'David', behind him. "Been busy doing… other things." He looked at Sybil. "You'd be surprised what you can find out with the right… tools." He threw the man to the ground. "Squealed like a pig he did."

"You're all here," Sybil clapped. "Perfect!"

"Ah, ah, ah…" said Sam, slamming his boot down on David's back and holding him place. "See, I didn't recognise him at first, I mean, why would I? He's a shadow, sorry, _skeleton, _of the man he used to be. But I just couldn't shake how familiar he seemed."

"You've _met _him?" Dean asked.

"Not in person." He looked at Dee. "Saw him in a dream once."

"Care to enlighten us, Sam?" Riley asked. She'd seen the briefest flash of panic in Sybil's eyes.

Sam removed his foot and put it under David, flipping him onto his back. "Smart," Sam smiled. "Just not smart _enough."_ He looked at Dee. "You know who he is, Dee."

"He is nothing but a servant!" Sybil hissed. She turned to Dee. "Kill them! All of them! I don't need them!"

"Kill us yourself, bitch." Sam smiled. "You can't, can you? Well not me, anyway. Dean and Riley are already dead. But me? Yeah, I've given you some trouble. Jack Riley kinda trouble. He knows protections that kick some serious ass." He focussed on Dee. "Look at him, Dee."

Ginny started shaking her head, trembling, her eyes locked to David. "Nonononononono…"

"Yes, Izzy," Sam said calmly. "Right from the beginning. It was supposed to be you but you ran. He looked everywhere for you, couldn't find you. He'd just about given up when Bobby stepped into the picture. He killed you and delivered Dee right to him. Bobby had no idea of course, but then neither did you."

"No…"

"It's Dee's…" started Dean.

"Grandfather," Sam finished.

"But…he'd be like… heaps old."

"Gee, ya think?" Sam shook his head. "Had one of Sybil's worshippers look for Izzy. He found her, kept quiet, wanted the glory for himself. But Jack fucked with his plans… and then it just got downright messy."

"Kill them!" Sybil yelled and Dee drew her swords.

"No, Dee," Sam said softly. "You can't—"

"Shut the fuck up, _Sammy." _Dee smiled. "Your _lies _won't work with me!" She turned to Riley. "_You _did this! If your fucking mother had killed you, none of this would have happened! None of it!" She charged.

Dean pushed Riley out of the way and yanked the sword from Jack's leg bringing it up just in time to block the strike at his head. "No, Riley!"

Riley tackled Dee to the ground as Ginny jumped on Sam, screaming and scratching, tearing at Sam. Sam stumbled backwards, tripped over David and slammed down on Dean.

Riley punched furiously at Dee, concentrating on her injured shoulders. "Listen to me, Dee! Listen!"

"Fuck you!" Dee head-butted Riley, knocking her backwards. She jumped to her feet and raised her sword. Riley kicked her in the knee, dropping her and snatching one of her swords. "Bitch!"

"So everyone keeps saying," Riley panted. She looked over as Sam wrestled with Ginny. "Hold her, Sam! Don't you hurt her!"

Dean was standing in front of Sybil, sword held ready. "Come get me, skank."

"Strike at me and see what happens," Sybil smiled. "I dare you."

"Not yet, Dean!" Sam yelled. "Not yet, trust me!" Dean hesitated. "Trust me, Dean!"

Dean nodded, his eyes glued to Sybil. "Sweat, bitch."

"Come on then, Dundee," Dee swung her sword. "Whatchya gonna do, girlie?"

"Kick your arse, Red. What else?"

Dee laughed. "I'm better than you, _Cinnamon_."

"Nah," Riley smiled. "You just think you are. That's cool, though." She blocked a strike. "See? Not even close."

Riley blocked strike after strike, wearing Dee down as she drew her friend closer to the treeline. "Come on, Dee. Just—" Riley turned as her mother screamed. Not Izzy, but her _mother._ She jumped back as Dee struck, the blade slicing through her side.

"No!" She heard Dean yell as she dropped to her knees and slid from the blade. Jack was right, it hurt like a sonofabitch. She looked into the furious eyes of her friend then turned to Dean. "Stay there," she yelled as best she could. She looked up at Dee. "It's over."

"You bet it is," Dee smiled.

Sybil laughed. "End her!"

"Fuck you, bitch!" Riley yelled as she thew her sword. "Now Dean!"

Dean drove his sword into Sybil's gut, turning her. Riley's sword speared into Sybil's chest.

Sybil howled as Dean twisted his sword. "How's that feel?" He turned as Sam slammed his dagger into Sybil's neck.

"Three down, one to go," he smiled.

'She will never—"

Dean punched her in the face. Sybil howled as her nose broke. "Hurts don't it?"

"Kill her! Kill her!" Sybil yelled.

"Hold her there!" Riley yelled, trying to get to her feet.

Dee pushed her to her knees. "Should have killed you that day in the warehouse."

"Hindsight's a bitch," Riley tried to smile. "Remember my name when… when…" Her vision swam "Don't Dee…please don't…"

"Beg all you like," Dee smiled and raised her sword. "Your head's going on a pike, _Cinnamon!"_

"My name's _Riley!"_

"Riley!" Dean yelled as Dee started to swing her sword down.

Sam grabbed him, "You can't let go!" He pulled Dean's face to his. "_Trust _her!"

Sybil laughed. "It's _over!"_

Riley closed her eyes. _Ye though I walk through the—_

"No, Dee." The voice was soft. "No, baby."

Riley opened her eyes.

"No, Dee. Don't you do this."

Dee shook her head. "You said this was the only way."

"I would never say that, Dee. You know me _better _than that. You know _me, _Dee. _Me."_

Dee looked into the dark brown eyes that haunted her dreams. The love shone just as bright then as it did now. "You lied?"

"I never lied to you, Dee. Not then," he brushed his fingers down her face. "And not now."

"No," she shook her head. "If—"

"No ifs, baby. Look at your friend. _Look _at her." Dee turned her face to Riley's. "She asked me to come. You know why? Because she knew that bitch over there used my voice, used _me _to make you do this. To do all of it. She wanted you to know the _truth."_

"He lies!" Sybil shrieked. "I tell the truth! Me!"

Sam backhanded her and grinned. "That was fun!"

"Dee! I'm your mother!"

"She isn't, baby. You _know _she isn't."

"Look at Riley. Look at your friend. Your _family."_

"No, she—"

"She loves you." He smiled. "I love you. Always have, Dee. So you _stop _this. Once and for all you _stop _this." He dropped his hand from her arm. "You set me free, Dee, remember?" Tears streamed down her cheeks. "It's time for you to be free, baby." He motioned to Sybil. "You know what you have to do. You do this and everything will be okay, I _promise _you, baby." He smiled the smile that always broke her heart. "Trust me." He motioned to Dean and Sam. "Trust _them."_

Dee looked between Sybil, Dean, Sam and Riley. Voices screamed at her, swirling through her mind, trying to confuse her. Yells of betrayal, yells of hatred directed at everyone… except Sybil. She turned to the man at her side. "Is it you?" she whispered.

"Your rambo bullshit doesn't work with me, Deandra Chastity Richardson."

"Pete…"

"In the flesh, baby."

Dee turned to Riley and her eyes narrowed. "You brought him here?" Riley nodded. "Bitch!"

"I asked him to come. _Him, _Dee. Not…" she motioned over her shoulder to the decaying battlefield.

"She lies! They all lie!"

"I've had just about enough of you," Dean angered. "For fuck's sake Dee! Are you that stupid?"

"Dean!" Sam yelled as Sybil laughed.

Dee turned to Dean, fury in her eyes. "I'm killing you first, Winchester." She ran at Dean, raised her sword and struck. She drove her sword through Dean's side and into Sybil.

"No!" Riley yelled.

Dee smashed her elbow into Sam's face and clamped her hand over the one that held the dagger in Sybil's throat.

"You're dead," Dean spat. "I'm gonna tear your heart out through your spine, bitch!"

She pushed her face to Dean's. "She can't die without your blood on the blade," Dee whispered. "Understand? Yours and Riley's. You opened the door, now you _close _it."

"Bitch," Dean seethed.

He turned as the man Dee had called Pete brought Riley over. "Grab your sword," he ordered. "Grab it, Riley."

"Noooooooo…" Sybil wailed.

"Dawn's almost here, Riley," Pete said softly. "If she sees the sun, it's over for all of you."

Dean looked at Riley, she was 'in between', he knew that, but now she looked … "Riley, do it for me, baby, please." Riley raised her eyes to his. "Please. End it, end all of it."

Riley's arm felt like it weighed a tonne. She grunted with the effort to lift it.

"Come on, Riley," Sam urged. "We're almost there, come on."

Riley bit back a yell. "I hope this hurts like a mother-fucker," she spat and grasped the sword.

Sybil threw her head back and shrieked, the four hunters wincing as the sound struck them, travelling like acid through them.

"Hold tight!" Pete yelled.

Light began to seep from the wounds, dripping like blood down Sybil's robes.

"Die, you fucker!" Sam yelled, twisting his dagger deeper into Sybil's neck.

Dean saw the night slowly starting to lessen over the bitch was taking too long to die. "Fuck this," he muttered. He grabbed the pistol from Dee's waistband, half-turned and jammed it into Sybil's mouth. "Ain't payback a _bitch!" _He pulled the trigger, smiling as the back of Sybil's head blew out.

Light shot out of Sybil's wounds, the deity's shriek now deafening as it scoured around the glade. Thunder boomed and lightning seared, turning night to day.

Sybil's face began to melt, dripping like wax from her skull. It hissed and bubbled, leaking from her as she shook.

"Hold!" Pete yelled.

They grunted with the effort to remain standing, holding Sybil in place with their weapons as the last of her skin disintegrated. Her bones began to crack, splintering as her innards bulged.

Riley closed her eyes, she knew what was coming and it was going to be _nasty._ She opened her eyes when a hand turned her face.

"I'm sorry," Dee mouthed, the saddest of smiles on her lips.

Riley gave her a small smile and opened her mouth, but the words were stolen from her as Sybil exploded in shower of blood and gore. She was thrown backwards. _Just like Lilith,_ she thought, _which means…_ her breath was slammed out of her when she hit the ground, hard. She fought the darkness that tried to claim her. "No," she whispered. She turned her head. Dean and Sam were both lying, prone, on the gound. "_No." _Her body didn't listen.

_I did my best, it wasn't much_

_I couldn't feel so I tried to touch_

_I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you_

_And even though it all went wrong_

_I'll stand before the Lord of Song_

_With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah_

_**To be concluded… **_


	21. Epilogue

**Requiem.**

**Epilogue**

_**A month later...**_

Riley was perched on the Impala's hood, Dean resting against his car beside her, his hands jammed into his pockets as they stared over the town of Carthage, North Dakota. They watched the townspeople moving about their lives, enjoying the sunshine - their only worries, the little ones. Neither of them felt the need to talk. They liked the silences they shared.

"It doesn't matter how much we want it," a smile barely touched Riley's lips as she watched the people below them. "Or don't," she said softly, her hands clasped between her knees as her gaze roamed the town. "We can never be a part of it."

Dean said nothing for a long time. It was a truly comfortable silence, something he rarely experienced …and something he knew he would miss. "Maybe we were never meant to be a part of it in the first place, Riley. Maybe… maybe this is the only way for people like us to experience that world…without destroying it. Maybe we were always meant to be on the outside looking in. Maybe it's safer for everyone that way."

Riley didn't look at him when she took his hand. "That's a lot of maybes." He let out a soft chuckle and she smiled. It was pure Dean.

"Maybe I should just kick your ass."

"And you wonder why I can't take you places," she laughed softly, squeezing his hand. She sighed as she looked over Carthage and its inhabitants. The comfortable silence encircled her as his arm did. "Maybe they're the one's on the outside looking in, Dean." She turned, taking in his profile, "Maybe our world is the one to be envious of - the freedom, the adventure, the implicit understanding of the fragility of life and really _knowing _what a gift it is. Maybe that's our gift to them – a glimpse into _our _world, a world they can never really be a part of either."

He nodded slowly, "Your shot-glass really is half full, huh?"

"Yup. It's part of my charm," Riley grinned.

"It's something alright," he muttered, laughing as she bumped him. "You won't find her," he said softly.

"Yeah, I will," Riley smiled. "My shot-glass is always half-full remember?" She looked out over Carthage again, "I know you, Sam and Bobby think I'm crazy."

"Riley—"

"I _know_, Dean. But if it were Sam, what would you do?"

"So let me help you."

She shook her head, "You know why." She slid from the hood and slipped her arms around him, her lips finding his as he pulled her against him. His hands slid over her ass, pulling her down with him as they moaned softly,

'_Baby…' _Dean lifted her gaze to his. '_Mine.'_

Riley smiled and kissed him softly. _'Mine.'_

* * *

Riley stretched as she woke. She didn't need to open her eyes to know Dean was gone. They'd said their silent goodbyes last night. She breathed in deep and smiled. She could still smell him in the sheets, and that was something she could get used to.

She didn't want to get up but she had to. Dee had a two-week head start on her. It didn't matter what her mother and Bobby said; Dee wasn't dead. She'd run. Who else would have torched the Landy. Riley sighed and sat up, rubbing her hands down her face. Too much shit to think about, and too much shit to organise. She didn't know where to begin. She turned, a frown forming as she spied a note sitting on the bedside table with her name on it in Dean's surprisingly neat handwriting.

Dean had written her a note? What world was she living in?

She opened it, unable to stop her laugh.

_Get your lazy ARSE out of bed and go to the window. Stop bitching and do it. _

Riley got out of bed and slipped on the t-shirt she'd claimed from Dean. She went to the window and pushed the curtain aside, shaking her head with a laugh before heading outside. She reached through the window of the battered '69 Chevelle and took the envelope from the dash.

_Now we're square. Check the trunk._

Riley took the keys from the envelope, laughing softly to herself as she ran her eyes over the different coloured primer that coated the car. It was no Impala but…yeah, it was just her kinda car: a little dinged up but ready for a new beginning. She popped the trunk, shaking her head as she picked up another note sitting on the floor.

_Switch, left hand side near taillights._

Riley found the switch quickly and the floor clicked open. She looked around quickly before lifting it. A smile lit her face as her eyes wandered over not only her weapons but some of Dean's as well. It was her Dad's swords and daggers, though, that brought tears to her eyes. Her most prized possessions carefully stored for her. _Dean. _She took the note that was slipped over Jack's favourite sword.

_Maybe we are the lucky ones._

"Maybe, baby. Maybe."

* * *

The black beast rumbled down the highway, her roar the only thing that sounded on the warm morning air. The car growled as she chewed up the blacktop, her passengers living in the past as she powered into the future.

Dean stopped a smile as he felt the familiar pulse through his neck. Riley was awake. He'd watched her sleep, not wanting to get out of bed. Not wanting to leave, but counting down the minutes 'til he had to. She knew he'd be gone when she woke. Her last kiss had told him. She'd whispered his name in her sleep when he'd brushed his lips over hers.

"You alright, dude?"

"Fine, Sammy."

Sam studied his brother. He wasn't fine. "You sure? I mean…"

"I'm fine, Sam." Dean stated firmly, wondering how long his link to Riley would last.

"It's just….Bobby said he couldn't reverse Riley's mojo, Dean."

"That's what he said," Dean nodded, pushing his foot down on the accelerator, a smile rising to his lips as the car leapt forward, responding beautifully under his touch. He'd given up trying to convince Bobby that Riley hadn't used mojo on him. He knew the truth, and so did she. What had happened between them had nothing to do with mojo, or Sibyl or Lilith, It was him and Riley. Simple.

"You think we'll see her again?"

"Maybe, Sammy" Dean smiled as his throat pulsed again. "Maybe."

_**

* * *

**_

_**Here's where I thank everyone for sticking with this extraordinarily long and drawn out story. A special thanks goes out to those who reviewed 'Requiem', gives a writer that warm fuzzy feeling inside. **__**An extra special thanks goes out to Kes, who puts up with my rants and is always ready to slap my Muse… or poke her with a big stick. Ta, babes! **_

_**Now is this the end of Riley and Dee's exploits with the Winchester boys? We'll see….**_

_**AJ**_


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